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ZATTHU 


A TALE OF ANCIENT GALILEE 


By / 
EDMUND HAMILTON ‘SEARS 


THE CORNHILL PUBLISHING COMPANY 
BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS, U. S. A. 





Copyrriaut 1925 


By THE CORNHILL PUBLISHING COMPANY 


Printed in the United States of America 


THE JORDAN & MORE PRESS 
BOSTON 


TO MY WIFE 
HELLEN SEARS 


7 Kpe wily 
Wg Ms 


y ite he 
he £95 i 
: A 
Wa ir ae i 





FOREWORD 


Zatthu, about whom this story centers, is not an historical 
character. In the days of Pontius Pilate no one actually 
figured as he figures in these pages. But he truthfully em- 
bodies the spirit of sedition that made the Jews unceasingly 
restive under Roman rule and finally led them to rebel against 
it to their own undoing in the reign of Vespasian. Indeed, 
the fierce hatred that brought on that disastrous conflict and 
the destruction of Jerusalem by Titus might easily have been 
fanned long before into a flame of rebellion. That Pontius 
Pilate realized how critical the situation was is shown by his 
surrender to the priestly party when they accused Jesus of 
Nazareth of treason against Rome and clamored for his 


death. 


Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2022 with funding from 
Princeton Theological Seminary Library 


https://archive.org/details/zatthutaleofanci0Osear 


CONTENTS 


Part I—Zatrnu 

Part [[—TwHe Dawnine Licutr 
Part Ij[—Tursoa 

Part IV— THE Broken Hope 
Part V— WalIrTING 


Part VI— DARKNESS AND Day 





Part [I 
ZATTHU 





ZATTHU 
A TALE OF ANCIENT GALILEE 


I 


“Has there been any untoward happening, Glabrio?” 

“None.” 

The brief soldier-like answer was accompanied by the usual 
salute. 

“And you’ve seen nothing to rouse suspicion?” 

“Nothing.” 

“That is well. Tullius will now relieve you. And mind 
you keep a sharp lookout, Tullius. From now to midnight 
is the time that mischief-makers would choose for doing their 
foul deeds, and near this palace Herod built —I wish the 
wicked old fellow had never built it, for these rebels will be 
using it for a stronghold some day — is just the place for 
them to gather. In this western part of the city they think 
we can’t spy out their doings from our quarters on Mount 
Zion. Ah, they’re a quarrelsome lot, these Hebrews. Galba 
does well to watch them closely. I am thinking he may have 
to send to Cesarea and ask Pilate for more legionaries now 
that that turbulent Zatthu is stirring up sedition. It’s a 
small force we have at the Tower of Antonia — just a cen- 
tury to keep all the hot-headed malcontents of Jerusalem 
in order.” 

“True, Scapulo,” commented Glabrio, the relieved sentry 
who knew he should receive no rebuke for free speech from 
the talkative and good-natured decurion; “but even one 
Roman eagle is enough to scare these Hebrew croakers. 


99 


4 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


They know well that a whole flock will fly to it if it is 
assailed.” 

“Yes, but of late they do not seem so badly scared. 
Zatthu, as I have said, is keeping all Jerusalem in a ferment. 
So I charge you again to keep your eyes wide open, Tullius. 
Remember, the Roman discipline is stern whenever a soldier 
is careless at his post. And now I must take a look at those 
big towers’ nearby and see if any trouble-breeders are lurk- 
ing about them. So, forward all!” 

It was in the open space in front of the now unoccupied 
palace that the above colloquy had taken place. Out of this 
space the little band was marched, and turning it soon dis- 
appeared behind the corner of the palace. But hardly had 
it made the turn when every man instinctively came to a halt 
without waiting for the decurion’s command. ‘Their ears 
were startled by a deep groan, followed by the unmistakable 
noise of a falling body. The clang of metal upon stone sug- 
gested the same thing to all. The sentry who had just been 
left on guard had been felled to the earth, and it was his 
armor clashing upon the pavement that had made the sound. 
Exactly what had happened they could not know, bright — 
moonlight though it was; but they hardly needed Scapulo’s 
command, “About! Quick! Follow me!” to rush with all 
speed to the spot they had just left. 

Rounding the corner of the palace they instantly made out 
the form of their comrade stretched upon the ground. That 
it was he the glint of his armor plainly showed. So, even as 
he ran, Scapulo directed several of his men, whom he called 
by name, to search the neighborhood for the author of the 
sorry deed. With the others he quickly reached the spot 
where the fallen Tullius lay, knelt beside him and passed a 
supporting arm beneath the drooping head. 


* There were three formidable towers — Hippicus, Phasael, and Mari- 
amne —- close to the solidly built palace of Herod the Great. It was these 
towers and the palace that yielded last when Jerusalem was captured 
by Titus. 


PART I—ZATTHU 5 


But Tullius was beyond help. He was still living, but that 
his end was near was almost immediately seen by Scapulo and 
his band. The sentry had been stealthily approached from 
behind and a knife or dagger had been dexterously thrust 
downward just where the neck and the left shoulder joined. 
Powerful had been the stroke; powerful the hand that had 
withdrawn the knife from such a deep and dreadful wound. 
From it the blood was issuing fast and covering the pavement. 

“Can you not speak, Tullius, and tell us how this hap- 
pened?” inquired Scapulo, anxiously placing his face near 
that of the man he was supporting and striving to catch any 
faint words he might utter. He was bent solely on tracing 
the foul deed; to save the fast ebbing life he knew to be im- 
possible. 

The dying man looked up at his comrade longingly, as if 
imploring him to ward off the death he felt to be close at 
hand, and opened his lips in the effort to speak. But already 
it was too late. A gush of blood came from them; he gave 
one convulsive shudder and passed away. 

*““A vile murder! A cowardly abominable murder!” cried 
Scapulo. “If the murderer is caught, crucifixion would be 
too good for him. Poor Tullius! when I cautioned you just 
now, I little thought how sorely you needed the warning and 
how near you were to your end. You were a brave fellow. 
I know, for I have fought by your side in many a bloody fray. 
But you'll never wield sword or pilum again.” 

By this time the men who had been detailed to hunt for the 
assassin began to arrive. Interrogated one by one, they each 
made the same report. They had looked diligently through 
every street and alley; every nook and corner in the imme- 
diate neighborhood had been searched. Not a single person 
of any description had been seen. 

“And you got no glimpse of a form just darting into a 
side street or disappearing in the distance?” 

No; such a figure had not been seen and one of the soldiers 


6 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


made the reasonable statement that search was difficult 
among the houses that lined in tiers the steep sides of the 
Tyropeon valley.* 

“No matter if it was difficult, you ought to have found 
the villain,” said the decurion, not concealing his vexation. 
‘Surely you did not look sharply, for he could not have got 
far away. You were hunting for him only a moment or two 
after his cursed deed was done. Well, take up the body and 
bear it to Mount Zion across the bridge over the valley. 
Galba must know of this at once.” 

Three of the soldiers unloosed their belts and passed them 
under the body of their dead comrade. Three more helped 
them to lift it from the ground and carry it away. Before 
they left the palace precinct, however, Scapulo gave a linger- 
ing look around to see if his eye might not yet rest upon the 
assassin or discern some trace of him; but he saw nothing. 

Hardly, however, had he and his comrades disappeared 
from view before a man, who even in the moonlight appeared 
short and dwarfish, stole into the open space. He made his 
way with rapid but noiseless tread to the spot where the 
sentry had been stricken down. The copious pool of blood 
he saw there seemed to affect him joyfully. He gazed at it 
with grim satisfaction and the harshness of his features was 
accentuated by what was rather a ghastly leer than a smile, 
while a fierce light shone in his eyes. 

“Fools! Blind fools!’ he cried. ‘They looked in every 
direction, but they could not see Kelita. No, no! Kelita is 
too cunning for them. And if they saw him they would think 
he was too short and too feeble to do any harm. Feeble! 
Haha! This arm is strong enough to reach a Roman’s heart 
through his armor, and many of these foul worshippers of 
idols will it do to death. To slay them is to serve Jehovah 


*This valley severed the western part of the city, where the palace 
stood, from the Temple and the precinct on Mount Zion. So complete 
was the separation owing to the depth and the steep sides of the valley 
that the chasm was spanned by two bridges. 


PART I—ZATTHU 7 


even as Samuel did when he hewed Agag the Amalekite to 
pieces.” 

Then casting one last gloating look at the broad moist 
blood-stain which still shimmered in the moonlight, the dwarf 
stole noiselessly away. 


8 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


IT 


“How grim you look this morning, Melicu! Those figs 
you bought of Diblath the Samaritan have not proved 
mouldy, I hope.” 

“No, I was thinking of what happened last night.” 

“Last mebe What did happen last night? I’ve oa 
of nothing.” ii 

“You'd better go on to your shop, Hattush, instead of i 
ing to pick up the news. It’s the middle of the third hour’ 
already.” 

“It must have been something upsetting as it has made 
you so surly. Tell me what it was. My trade can wait.” 

“A Roman sentry was killed before the palace.” 

“SA sentry killed? Who did so bold a deed?” 

““A bold man. No one else would have dared.” 

“But who?” 

“That’s what the Romans are trying to find out, but he 
hasn’t been fool enough to brag about it and be caught.” 

“Do you think it was one of the sicarii?”’ 

“Maybe. But when a Roman dog meets his day, I’m not 
going to guess who did it. Dm just glad that it was done.” 

“How was he killed?” 

“With a sword or dagger thrust, they say.” 

“T believe it was one of that murdering band. What ter- 
rible men they are.” 

“Don’t call them murderers. Theirs is a holy cause. Do 
they not serve Jehovah by slaying his enemies?” 

“Does Zatthu approve of them?” 

“T never heard him say, but he well might. They are doing 
just what he’s telling us all to do, destroy these heathen 
dogs.” 

“But not by stealing up from behind and stabbing them, 


1'The third hour was from 6 to 9 a.m. 


PART 1—ZATTHU 9 


as that sentry must have been killed. I can’t help feeling a 
little sorry for him.” 

“Bah, you are too soft-hearted. Many a time Jehovah 
was wroth with our fathers because they did not slay their 
uncircumcised foes to aman. Was not that so, Piltai?”’ 

Melicu’s shop was one of many in the bottom of the 
Tyropeon valley. This was a natural thoroughfare down 
into which the people continually passed from the tiers of 
dwellings on its sides; and of this fact the traders of Jerusa- 
lem had not been slow to take advantage. The valley was a 
veritable mart for all the wares that the people of a city 
need. Buyer and seller met here all day long and discussed 
all the doings, lesser and greater, that furnished food for 
converse. But at this early hour the buyer was not much in 
evidence, and Piltai, a dealer in household utensils whose 
booth was next to Melicu’s, had been tempted by the lively 
talk he had heard to join the two who were in disputation. 
He was a short thin man, with a wizened face but a keen pierc- 
ing eye, somewhat in contrast to Melicu, who was tall and 
burly and had an aggressive dominant personality. 

“Yes, indeed,” was his prompt answer to the question put 
to him. “The king of Hazor and all its people were put to 
the sword by Joshua who would have sinned against Jehovah 
had he done less.” 

“And Ehud slew ten thousand Moabites at the fords of 
Jordan,” added another, a trader in clothing, who had also 
joined the group. Indeed, quite a number now began to 
gather in and about Melicu’s shop. Buyers as well as traders 
were assembling. The news of the sentry’s death had spread. 
It absorbed the minds of all and held the commercial instinct 
quite in abeyance. Every face showed grim resolution. Eyes 
flashed. Speech was not loud but earnest, and it had but one 
note — approval of the bloody deed which was viewed not as 
murder but as justice. 

“Well instanced, Hilkiah,” said Melicu to the last speaker. 


10 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


‘‘And may we soon do to the Romans what Ehud did to the 
Moabites.” 

“They are not a whit better.” 

‘The man who killed the sentry deserves praise as much as 
David.” 

“May he slay as many as Samson!” 

“Would that he could call down fire from heaven like 
Elijah.” 

‘“‘Next month is the Passover. To kill these heathen dogs 
is a fitting preparation for it.” 

“How pleased Zatthu will be! He will see his counsels are 
taking root.” 

These comments, poured out in quick succession by differ- 
ent members of the excited group, showed the kindly Hattush 
that he was quite in the minority. He did not venture to 
resist this tide of vengeful sentiment for fear of being counted 
unpatriotic, and he was much embarrassed to hear his friend 
Melicu say as he pointed to him, 

“But Hattush here feels sorry for the sentry and doubts if 
Zatthu would approve of so dealing with an enemy.” 

All looked at Hattush scowlingly, but before he was taken 
to task for his recreancy, a warning voice said, 

*S-s-sh. The Romans.” 

The warning was timely. Several Roman soldiers were 
drawing rapidly near. The violent deed of the preceding 
night had incensed the Roman centurion. He was sending 
out groups of men to note what was passing and to look for 
evidence. The gathering at Melicu’s shop naturally roused 
the suspicion of these emissaries of Galba. ‘They hastened 
toward it in the hope of finding, if not the culprit, at least 
some mischief-maker who could be used as a scape-goat. 

But the Hebrews were too wary to be caught. Excitement 
cooled the moment the Romans were sighted. The group 
melted. Reaching the spot, the soldiers met only a number 
of men going this way and that way in a perfectly orderly 


PART I— ZATTHU 11 


manner. Such talk as they heard was upon trade. There 
was no ground for arresting any one. To make an arrest 
upon mere suspicion was folly. It was deeds of that kind 
that infuriated the populace and made governing Jerusalem 
anything but an easy task. 

So the Romans looked searchingly at each member of the 
scattering group without detecting a sign of rebellious 
activity. They altogether missed Melicu’s injunction to his 
friend Hattush, whispered secretly into his ear, 

“Come to the synagogue of Joshua with me tonight and 
hear Zatthu. I will wait for you. Be at my house at dusk.” 


12 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


III 


Jerusalem, like many other ancient cities, was more than 
once rudely treated by the devastating hand of war. Its walls 
were rased by Ptolemy, Alexander’s general, a few years after 
the great Macedonian succumbed to fever at Babylon. They 
were rebuilt and the city thrived for a hundred and fifty years 
till it was burned by the army of Antiochus Epiphanes. ‘The 
Maccabees restored its prosperity which was continued and 
augmented by Herod the Great. Under that vicious but 
enterprising ruler, the city grew in area, in population, and 
in the splendor and stateliness of its buildings. The hill 
where the Temple stood was still the citadel, as it had been 
even from the time of David; but the higher western hill on 
the other side of the deep T'yropeon ravine was now included 
within the city walls and was covered with buildings. Here 
stood the massive palace where the sentinel was slain. Here 
were some of the three hundred synagogues that were to be 
found at this period within the walls of Jerusalem. 

The synagogue of Joshua, to which Melicu had asked 
Hattush to accompany him, was one of these newer syna- 
gogues in this newly constructed portion of the city. It was 
in the southwest corner, as far removed as possible from the 
Tower of Antonia on Temple Hill where the Roman garrison 
had its quarters. The distance was not indeed great. Jeru- 
salem, even at this period of expansion and prosperity, cov- 
ered only a few hundred acres. From corner to corner it 
measured hardly a mile. None the less, the Jews did not wish 
_to be directly under the eyes of the vigilant legionaries when 
they talked sedition. 

No more did they choose to attract attention by flocking 
in crowds to a meeting place. All Jerusalem was eager to 
hear Zatthu. Any synagogue that he spoke in was filled to 
overflowing. Precautions therefore had to be taken to keep 


PART I—ZATTHU 13 


his audiences from being unwieldy and from inviting Roman 
interference. The news that he was to address a gathering 
was not spread broadcast. To the appointed synagogue the 
Jews who had been notified made their way with wariness. 
They strolled in one by one for an hour or two before the 
designated time. 

In the Synagogue of Joshua they had been thus assembling 
for some time before Melicu and Hattush reached it. Press- 
ing to the front the two traders found seats with difficulty, 
for the building, which did not comfortably hold more than 
two hundred, was already full. Yet it had to find room for 
more. Singly, or by twos and threes, men continued to enter, 
each one carefully noted by the doorkeepers as he passed 
inside. For this was a conclave of true-hearted patriots and 
no one in the pay of Rome could gain admission if he was 
under the smallest suspicion. But the ways of the spy are 
subtle. His is a profession that calls for unceasing craft, 
resourcefulness and ready invention. If those vigilant watch- 
ers at the doorway had admitted none whose intent was 
treacherous, they had done well. 

By the time that dusk had thickened into night every foot 
of standing room in the synagogue was occupied. A few late 
comers had to be denied admission. And it seemed indeed as 
if none but patriots were to be found among those dark-eyed 
Hebrews, on every one of whom was stamped indelibly the 
marks of one of the mighty races of the world. It was an 
inspiring scene that Hattush and Melicu became a part of. 
It had indeed more significance than they could read. For 
even in the dim light of the lamps the faces of this body of 
determined men showed the power that had made their people 
great in the land of their fathers and was to make them great 
through countless centuries in every part of the globe. Those 
flashing eyes, those strong features aglow with patriotic fire, 
those attitudes that, both of the sitting and the standing, 
denoted resolution and alertness, not an indolent or shifting 


14 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


mood — all bespoke virility, power to scheme and power to 
accomplish, power, too, for limitless sacrifice and suffering in 
a holy cause. Here was not the patient submissiveness of a 
brooding Oriental race. ‘These were the children of those 
who had murmured in the Wilderness, turned against Moses 
even at the foot of flaming Sinai, called for a king when God 
himself was ruling them and then breathed defiance against 
the very kings they had set up. These were of the race of 
Joshua and Deborah and Samson and the Maccabees. These 
were the progeny of holy men who had spoken the word of 
the Most High. 

To the glorious days when God had shown them peculiar 
favor, smitten down their enemies and touched their prophets’ 
lips with sacred fire, they now looked back with pride and 
longing. And their longing was intensified by a sense of their 
own degradation. For was it not degrading to bow down 
to heathen Rome? Why should this coarse and brutal people 
flout them and jeer at them and trample them under foot? 
Why had the dread Jehovah ever allowed it to wax mighty on 
the earth? It had reared no altars unto Him. It had had 
no Moses or Elijah to interpret his Holy Will or work won- 
ders in his Holy Name. Rome was unclean. Rome set up 
graven images that Jehovah could only look upon with loath- 
ing. Why then did He not blast its legions with lightning, 
overthrow its idols and level its foul temples with an earth- 
quake? Why did not Rome’s very sky grow black in token 
of God’s wrath? 

It was this feeling, smouldering ever in the Hebrew mind, 
that Zatthu was kindling into a flame. A Pharisee of dis- 
tinguished family, he had while but a youth formed the pur- 
pose of freeing his country. As he reached manhood the 
idea became a passion. He was now but twenty-five, but he 
possessed a dignity and gravity beyond his years and his 
native powers of leadership had made his influence potent in 
Jerusalem. He never lost an opportunity to plead his cause; 


PART I—ZATTHU 15 


and so menacing had he become that the Romans were gather- 
ing the evidence that would warrant them in arresting him 
for sedition. Yet fearlessly, though warily, he kept at his 
appointed task. No ties of kindred had he to make him 
pause. He was unmarried; his father and mother were dead; 
the brother and sister who shared the household with him 
were in full sympathy with his cherished purpose. Nor did 
he have to consider the question of subsistence. His father 
had grown wealthy by dealing in rugs, silks, linens and all 
manner of fine fabrics; and this business Zatthu’s brother 
carried on successfully. He was several years older than 
Zatthu, but to this younger scion of the house he looked up 
with reverence and admiration, really believing that Jehovah 
had chosen him to free Israel from bondage. Whatever need 
Zatthu ever had for money or for the things that money 
could furnish was promptly and amply satisfied. 

The synagogue having received all it could hold, the chief 
elder began the ceremony of worship. But he made the ritual 
brief. It was not for worship that they had come. It was 
to hear Zatthu. And as soon as the brief service of prayer 
and praise was ended, Zatthu arose and spoke. 

From the beginning he held his hearers spellbound, for he 
spoke with the force and intensity of a forceful and pas- 
sionate nature. In stature he was not imposing, being slight 
and of medium height. But his large flashing eyes, his 
strongly marked features and his piercing vibrant speech all 
betokened a character fitted to impose its own will upon 
others. Yet burning though his utterance was, it was modu- 
lated like that of all who are born to sway the multitudes. 
Not all of his words had stinging power. Not all of his tones 
had the note of the clarion. Now his speech was low and 
calm, though always distinctly heard. Now it was more 
unrestrained, like the steady flow of a deep and rapid river. 
And now it was passionate and stormy, its thrilling cadences 


16 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


surging upon his hearers like billows crashing on an ocean 
shore. 

Having thus at his command all the arts of the native 
orator, he held the assemblage absolutely under his sway 
while he reviewed at length the insolence and the iniquities 
of Roman rule. Then reaching the point where he wished to 
play upon the emotions, he burst into a passionate harangue. 

“Next month is our holy Passover,” he exclaimed, ‘“‘and 
think what it means! Think how Jehovah passed over the 
doors of our own people on that terrible night and smote the 
Egyptians till there was not a single house without one dead! 
He helped us then. He helped us through many generations, 
and will he fail us now? Like a flock our people followed 
Moses out of Egypt. Pharaoh pursued them with his chari- 
ots. The Red Sea swallowed him. At Rephidim came forth 
Amalek and fought with Israel. He was strong. He was 
valiant. But Moses stretched forth his rod and Aaron and 
Hur held up his weary hands. Jehovah saw. Jehovah 
reached down from the heavens. The Amalekites fell before 
the sword of Israel like the grain before the sickle. And 
what could the chariots of Jabin do against Him who Keepeth 
Israel and who neither slumbers nor sleeps? Into Deborah 
He sent his spirit. She breathed it into Barak and he drove 
the chariots before him as the stormwind drives the dust. 
Do you tell me that Saul was vanquished by the Philistines 
and fell upon his sword to save himself from shame? It was 
even so. Saul’s sons were slain and he himself died by his own 
hand on Mount Gilboa. But why was Jehovah’s might not 
used against his enemies? Why did they triumph over Saul 
and drive him from the field of battle? Even because he dis- 
obeyed. He lost his faith, and when he had lost it, he was 
no better than the uncircumcised Philistines who cut off his 
head and bore it in triumph away. 

“And so it is today and so it will always be. Have faith, 
O men of Judea! Have faith and the rivers will make way 


PART I— ZATTHU Le 


for you to cross. Have faith and a cloud will go before you 
by day and a pillar of fire by night. Have faith and to you 
as to the servant of Elisha the heavens will open and you will 
see that round about you there are horses and chariots of fire. 

“What are men? Are they not, I hear you saying, like 
the leaves of the forest? In the springtime the leaves are all 
alike green; the autumn comes and every one of them falls 
to the ground. One is no better than another. And is one 
pebble on the beach more perfect than the myriads that are 
ceaselessly washed by the waves? No, surely not. But be 
not deceived, O my countrymen! Be not lulled into sloth by 
thoughts like these! The heathen are indeed like the leaves 
or the sands upon the shore. Not so the Hebrew, unless he 
lets his faith in Jehovah die. For has not the great Jehovah 
chosen us to be his own peculiar people? Has He not made 
this manifest by signs and wonders manifold? The Hebrew 
who has faith is not like a common sheep in a countless herd. 
He is a prophet. Heisaking. With Jehovah on his side he 
can do deeds that will be told all through the ages. He 
CAT pret. jie & 

But all that the man of faith could accomplish was not 
told. A low sibilant noise was made at this moment by one 
of the doorkeepers who had suddenly entered the room. It 
was the danger signal. Scouts were posted whenever a 
gathering like this assembled. They had given warning, and 
the warning meant that Roman soldiers were near and were 
undoubtedly about to make their way into the building. 
Instantly, therefore, after the warning was given Zatthu 
ceased speaking, left the raised platform from which he had 
given his harangue and withdrew into a small secret apart- 
ment, so cunningly contrived that it would hardly have been 
discovered by a thorough search. To be sure, the Romans 
would not have ventured to arrest Zatthu had they found him 
sitting quietly there as a listener. Still, it seemed best to 
secrete him so that not even his presence there should be 


18 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


known and help to bring him into suspicion. And even as 
he disappeared from sight one of the Batlanim, or elders, 
came forward and began to address those present upon a 
matter of justice which two disagreeing members of the syna- 
gogue had referred to it. Hardly had he opened the case, 
however, when Scapulo, the decurion who had placed the un- 
fortunate Tullius on duty the previous evening, appeared 
with two legionaries and forced his way into the assembly. 

No attempt was made to bar them out. To defy the 
authority of Rome was as unwise as it was useless; so the 
doorkeepers merely protested against the intrusion as need- 
less and insulting. But so densely packed was the synagogue 
that Scapulo and his two followers had difficulty in getting 
a footing init. They were not indeed able to do so until they 
had ordered several to go outside and had taken advantage 
of the room thus made. Gradually edging his way forward 
and indifferent to the scowling looks directed at him, Scapulo 
stood and surveyed the scene. There was nothing to suggest 
disorder. He listened to the elder who all this time had been 
calmly presenting the question the synagogue had to decide. 
His remarks had not the smallest savor of sedition. In dis- 
gust at his failure Scapulo said to Piltai the trader in house- 
hold wares, who happened to be standing next to him, 

“Did not your countrymen come here to hear Zatthu this 
evening?” 

“Zatthu?” was the answer. ‘I do not know him. I do not 
think he belongs to this synagogue. We came to settle a ques- 
tion of justice which one of our elders is now presenting.” 

‘““A very interesting question it must be to have drawn so 
many here. Is the synagogue usually so thronged when you 
settle questions of justice?” 

“This is a matter of great importance. It has roused much 
feeling.” 

“So I see. Your elder is long in presenting it. When did 
he begin?” 


PART I— ZATTHU 19 


“Some time ago. I could not say when, I have listened so 
intently.” 

“And Zatthu has not been speaking at all?” 

“Zatthu? Zatthu? I told you he did not belong to this 
synagogue. ‘This is only one of our regular meetings to settle 
a question of justice.” 

Scapulo knew he should have found a very different scene 
if he could have made his way unannounced into the syna- 
gogue. But he saw the uselessness of further questioning. 
Reluctantly he withdrew and the two soldiers followed him. 
That he was closely watched he did not doubt, and he there- 
fore thought he should gain nothing by remaining in the 
neighborhood. He proceeded back to the garrison, and as 
soon as he was well on his way the gathering in the synagogue 
of Joshua dispersed. ‘The question of justice was not settled 
that evening, and as those who had made up the assemblage 
wended their way homeward their talk was solely of Zatthu 
and his burning words. 

Hattush, Melicu and Piltai walked together. They were 
not brought into these pages to play individual parts of con- 
sequence, and they will not appear again. What passed be- 
tween them has its value only as showing how the men of 
Jerusalem were at this time feeling toward Rome. 

“What think you now of sparing these heathen, Hattush?” 
inquired Piltai. 

“Jehovah did indeed destroy them unsparingly in the olden 
days,” replied Hattush. “Still, it does seem to me a fearful 
thing to steal up behind a man and stab him in the back.” 

‘“‘But if he is an unbeliever, he isn’t really a man,” answered 
Melicu. “He is only fit to be slaughtered, like the Philistines 
whom Samson slew. But never mind, Piltai. We'll convert 
him yet, and when Zatthu raises his banner he’ll be in the 
thickest of the fight.” 


20 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


IV 


In raising the spirit of insurrection, Zatthu very well knew 
the hazard he was braving. The centurion in command of 
the Roman garrison would not sit still and let rebellion foment 
under his very eyes. ‘The man who was encouraging it was 
surely marked. His words and actions were daily told to 
Galba. Rome never suffered her authority to be openly de- 
fied. Zatthu must crush the ruling power or speedily be 
crushed by it. 

His sanguine hope was that he could crush it. Judea was 
a very hotbed of sedition. Not long after the death of Herod 
the Great, it had been made a Roman province together with 
Samaria; for his son Archelaus had ruled this section of 
Palestine with such barbarity that he was deposed by Rome. 
In his place a procurator ruled, and the Roman system of 
government, with its customs, excise and other obnoxious 
features, was established over the unhappy and resentful 
people. 

The resentment was all the deeper because the two other 
sons of Herod the Great still ruled the provinces they had 
inherited. Herod Antipas was tetrarch of Galilee and 
Perea; Herod Philip, of the district beyond the Jordan. 
True, the genuinely patriotic Jews were no friends of this 
unprincipled dynasty. Herod the Great had rebuilt the 
Temple at Jerusalem, but he was a loose liver and a skeptic. 
His sons were as irreligious and unprincipled as he, and 
Archelaus, the elder, who had been dethroned, added gross 
cruelty to his other vices. But even a Herod was better 
than a procurator. So thought the people of Judea in their 
fierce hatred of the oppressive Roman rule. 

To make them openly rebel against this rule was Zatthu’s 
aim. All the sects that were truly Jewish at heart he hoped 
to unite by the tie of patriotism. He was himself a Pharisee 


PART I—ZATTHU 21 


of the strictest school. But surely Pharisees, Sadducees and 
Essenes could forget their differences in their love for their 
bleeding and insulted country. Let the fawning Herodians 
pander to the reigning princes. They were no true children 
of Abraham. In their minds they were heathen; in their 
lives they were corrupt. Nor was it worth while to fire the 
Assassins (the Sicari) with fresh zeal. They were only too 
ready to strike down a Roman whenever they found oppor- 
tunity. The hunchback Kelita, who had slain the Roman 
sentry in the Temple precinct, was one of their body and his 
deed well typified their reckless daring. Rather did they need 
to be curbed than goaded on; for such wanton violence could 
only incite the Roman government to watchfulness and stern 
acts of repression. But if all who had a true pride in the 
nation’s former glory would bury petty jealousies and strike 
at the power that was oppressing them, what might not be 
done? 

Did Zatthu really believe that the God of Israel would fight 
with his chosen people now as He had done when He led them 
out of Egypt? Did he think that when the battle actually 
raged the Roman armies would be destroyed by fire from 
heaven like the companies sent to seize Elisha? Undoubtedly 
he did. If he had wavered at first in thinking so, he wavered 
no longer. So often had he urged the idea that it had now 
fully possessed him. He had the prophct’s soul. He was 
fixed in the belief that his people were to rule the world. 
They were set apart by Jehovah. All the other nations wor- 
shipped false gods and were marked for destruction. Jehovah 
loathed their unclean rites. He could but destroy them all. 
It was only a matter of time. These Romans were ever grow- 
ing more wanton and shameless. Could the Keeper of Israel 
see his own children slain and routed by these wantons? It 
could not be. So he preached insurrection with all the fire 
of his passionate spirit. Miracles might not after all be 


22 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


needed when the hour of deliverance came. But were they 
needed, they would surely come to pass. 

Yet withal Zatthu was wary. ‘The blow must soon be 
struck, or he would be seized and prevented from directing it. 
Already therefore had he become careful about showing him- 
self upon the streets. When he did walk abroad, he went in 
the midst of a group of devoted followers. And his caution 
had been increased by Kelita’s murder of the sentry. He 
must lose no time in making the leaders of the three great 
sects come together. That done, there could be an uprising 
that would sweep Rome’s insolent soldiers from the land. 

But Rome was too watchful for him. The appearance of 
Scapulo and his men at the synagogue made him seek seclu- 
sion for a brief space. From the gathering at which he had 
spoken so vehemently he did not go to his own house on the 
Temple Hill. He took shelter with a friend who lived in one 
of the houses that were clustered on the west slope of the 
Tyropeon valley as thickly as the nests of swallows line some 
projecting eaves. Here he kept himself concealed till the 
afternoon of the second day. He then ventured forth, intend- 
ing to go to the house of a wealthy and influential Sadducee 
where he was to confer with a number of the weighty members 
of their party. The Sadducee lived in the older or eastern 
portion of the city; and to reach his dwelling it was necessary 
to cross the Tyropeon valley. Thinking the Romans might 
be guarding the two bridges that spanned it, Zatthu and his 
followers — men with arms concealed about them always 
attended him now — went down the steep and narrow street 
that led into the thoroughfare at the bottom. But just as 
they were about to pass into this thoroughfare directly oppo- 
site to the shop of Melicu, the dealer in dried fruits, they 
found themselves confronted by a decurion and his squad. 
Looking back they saw that another group of soldiers had 
closed in upon them in the rear. Flight was impossible. Re- 
sistance to these men in full armor was unwise. Zatthu had 


PART I—ZATTHU 23 


to act quickly, for his followers had already drawn their long 
knives. It was barely possible they could hew for him a 
passage through these formidable foes, but only at the cost 
of the lives of nearly all. This he would not sanction. 

“No violence, friends!” he said commandingly. “It will 
hurt our holy cause.” 

And being told he was under arrest, he gave himself up and 
was led away. 

But the scene that followed showed how unspeakably the 
people of Jerusalem detested the Roman rule. Zatthu’s 
friends put up their knives at their leader’s bidding, but they 
followed the soldiers and jibed them unceasingly. They 
called them evil names. ‘They praved that fire from heaven 
might come down and consume them. Attracted by their 
vehement outcries, others joined them and hurled similar 
execrations at the Romans. Nor were they satisfied with 
mere wordy demonstrations. Keeping out of reach of the 
soldiers’ spears and broadswords, they began to shower mis- 
siles upon them. Refuse, stones, stray bits of broken earthen- 
ware, anything on which they could lay their hands they used 
against these hated servants of the power that ruled them, 
while ever fiercer and more insulting grew their jibes. 

“They are only carrion, vile carrion.” 

“Not all the water in Jordan would wash them clean.” 

“The dogs in the street would not lick up their tainted 
blood.” 

“And the kites wouldn’t touch their corpses.” 

“They are filthier than swine.” 

“They are lepers every one.” 

“Their Rome is a sink that no Jew could bear to smell of.” 

Against these insolent cries the Roman discipline was 
proof; but the ever growing violence called for rebuke. One 
of the decurions suddenly turned and charged the crowd with 
half a dozen of his men. Too dense was the throng to give 
way before the assault. The decurion’s sword severely 


24 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


wounded one of the rioters; the spears of his soldiers pricked 
others with no gentle touch. Suddenly all fell back as rapidly 
as the crowded space allowed. Tamed but still defiant, they 
followed now at a distance and their execrations were more 
feebly uttered. Without farther molestation the group of 
legionaries with their captive made their way up to the ‘Tower 
of Antonia on Temple Hill. 

Without delay Zatthu was ushered into Galba’s presence. 
The centurion eyed him sternly for some moments without 
speaking. He was measuring the man and in his heart was 
rather pitying than condemning him. In the erect and fear- 
less mien, the finely moulded noble features and the burning 
eyes that told of a soul on fire with love of country, he saw a 
foe to be respected, yes, even to be feared if left at large. 
Himself a patriot and a man of humane feeling, he could not 
but admire this alien who was giving to his own land a devo- 
tion without stint or measure. But he was a Roman officer 
and this sympathy he could not even in the smallest degree 
make manifest to this dangerous enemy of Rome. 

“Your name is Zatthu?” he inquired. 

Lbs iy 

“And you are conspiring against the Roman Empire?” 

Zatthu eyed the centurion unflinchingly, but gave no 
answer. 

“You do not deny it because you know it is true,” con- 
tinued Galba, returning the Hebrew’s steady gaze; “as it is 
also true that you have been making seditious speeches to 
your countrymen at various times and places — night before 
last, for example, at the synagogue of Joshua. Are you 
ready to admit this?” 

“Of what use to deny it? You have made up your mind 
that itis so. But you have no proofs.” 

“Proofs I have and proofs in abundance.” 

“Spies!” exclaimed Zatthu, in a tone that was almost a 
hiss and made plain his contempt and indignation. 


b) 


PART I—ZATTHU 25 


“Perhaps. I shall not tell you how I obtained my informa- 
tion. But if you think your own countrymen have been 
persuaded by Rome to betray your words and movements, 
visit your wrath upon them, not upon the officers of Rome. 
But such proofs as I have will not now be made known to you. 
You are not on trial here. So serious do I consider your case 
that I am going to send you to Cesarea to be tried by Pilate, 
the governor of Judea. To him I shall forward all the evi- 
dence I have against you. And a part of that evidence is 
the murder of the sentry who was slain near your temple 
three nights ago. I have not been able to trace that cowardly 
deed directly to you; but I cannot really doubt it resulted 
from the inflammatory appeals you have been making to the 
men of Jerusalem. That Pilate will share this conviction of 
mine, I have no right to say; yet at heart I am sure that he 
will do so. 

“If you were really on trial, I should of course let you 
speak and defend yourself. But that right you are to exer- 
cise before Pilate, not before me. ‘Tomorrow you will take 
the journey, and the force that goes with you will be sufficient 
to make any attempt at rescue futile. 

*“Decimus, see that the prisoner is securely guarded through 
the night.” 


26 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


V 


Pontius Pilate had been procurator of Judxa and Samaria 
for some years before the events so far narrated took place. 
It was in the year 26 A.D. that he took up the reins of 
government and it was at Cesarea, the main seat of the Ro- 
man power in Palestine, that he made his home. This city 
had grown from the humblest of beginnings. Before Judea 
was made a Roman province, it was not even a thriving 
settlement, but only a point where ships could put in from 
sea. Augustus Cesar ruled that the procurator should there 
establish himself with the forces that were to keep this trou- 
blesome country in order. That was in the year 6 A.D.; and 
from that time it had been a post of consequence. The first 
procurator lived there altogether. Pilate for a time gave it 
the preference over Jerusalem, where he was sure to find him- 
self in no friendly atmosphere. 

Good reason had its citizens for disliking him. His rule 
had been tyrannical and harsh. With true Roman contempt 
for an alien people he had trampled on things the Jews held 
sacred. ‘To build an aqueduct he seized their sacred fund; 
and the uprising caused by this high-handed action he put 
down with bloodshed. Into their city, where Solomon had 
reigned in glory and invoked the blessing of Jehovah, he 
brought the standards of Rome’s heathen rule. And even 
their temple had not been free from his desecrating hand; 
for in it he had tried to hang trophies of Roman conquest in 
the shape of brazen shields. 

These and other despotic actions had made his name a 
byword of reproach with the people of Jerusalem. Natu- 
rally therefore he disliked the city and its inhabitants. Pre- 
senting himself there from time to time, he yet found life 
more genial at Cesarea. The Jews he looked upon as un- 
reasonable and quarrelsome. For their traditions he had no 


PART I—ZATTHU 27 


respect. Their pride in their past he viewed as a menace to 
Rome. In their religion he could see no meaning. So far as 
the spirit of inquiry was in him, he sought enlightenment from 
the philosophers of Greece and his own country. How could 
there be truth in the rites and teachings of these zealots who 
put their strange belief above the worship of all nations? 

Not at all pleased then was Pilate to learn that there had 
been fresh disturbances at Jerusalem and that the author of 
them had been sent to him for punishment. Why had Galba 
done this? Why had he not dealt with him himself? He 
might have imprisoned him or even have put him to death; 
for no doubt the man was guilty. But he, Pilate, was loath 
to pronounce a harsh sentence on a Jew of note and cause 
himself to be still further reviled by the rabble at Jerusalem. 
Still, he always loved to see and study men, and this man 
appeared to be no ordinary character. Carefully he read all 
the evidence that Galba had sent him. It was damning. 
Severity was absolutely called for. But it would be well worth 
while to draw the man out and get at his mind before passing 
judgment upon him. 


28 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


VI 


Zatthu and his guards were three days in making the 
journey from Jerusalem to Cxsarea. The distance was sixty 
miles, and twenty miles made a good day’s journey when 
haste was not imperative. 

As he passed within the city walls Zatthu cast searching 
glances about him. On every side were the evidences of the 
hated Roman presence and activity. All the buildings showed 
the solid Roman masonry, the equal of which the world has 
not seen. They soon passed by the amphitheatre without 
which a Roman city could not be complete. Proceeding not 
very much further, for the city was not large, they came to 
the seat of government close to the harbor. Here they could 
look out upon the sea, but it was not its blue waters that 
chiefly attracted Zatthu’s eyes. They rested on the massive 
breakwater that offered protection against the fierce Medi- 
terranean storms. He turned to gaze at the solid official 
buildings. They too symbolized the might, the seemingly in- 
destructible might, of the power he had set himself to over- 
throw. Something very much lke a curse shaped itself in his 
mind as he noted these signs of august rule. It was a stern 
task he had undertaken. But captive though he was, he had 
lost nothing of heart or hope. What mattered it how strong 
was the power to be conquered? Jehovah who made the moun- 
tains was to bring it down into the dust. 

It was therefore with a defiant spirit that Zatthu faced 
Pilate after spending his first night in Cesarea in one of the 
prison cells. The substantial stone structure in which those 
condemned for all manner of offences were kept contained 
also a number of rooms devoted to administrative purposes; 
and one of these was set apart for the uses of the Governor 
of Judea. Into this apartment Zatthu was ushered the 
morning of the first day after his arrival. His hands were 


PART I—ZATTHU 29 


fettered. A soldier marched on either side of him. But his 
step was rather that of a victorious general than of a cap- 
tive as he was brought before the platform on which Pilate 
sat in a chair of state. 

They were face to face — accuser and accused, the Roman 
magistrate and the Jewish rebel. Behind each was a wonder- 
ful and mighty historic past. Each was now conscious that 
he spoke not for himself but for his nation. To the Roman 
this consciousness gave a disdainful feeling that did not how- 
ever dull his interest in this man whose bold mien so challenged 
his attention. Out of blinking, half-closed eyes he gazed 
quizzically at Zatthu, his fingers interlaced and his thumbs 
moving nervously now and then as if to relieve the tension of 
his mind. His corpulent body and full face suggested the 
man who was bent on getting all earth had to give him; yet 
it was not difficult to see that he was no mere sensualist. The 
mouth, weak though it was, showed refinement. The fore- 
head was that of a thinker. The eyes, too furtive for sincere 
frank character, had a flickering light of intellectual curios- 
ity. And his spirit of inquiry was strongly roused as Pilate 
gazed for a time in silence at this defiant figure. How trouble- 
some these Jews were! he thought. Made arrogant by a 
past of which the world knew nothing and which probably 
was mere myth and legend, they would not accept cheerfully, 
as other nations did, the rule of the imperial city that had 
conquered the world. They thought their insignificant Jeru- 
salem as great as Rome. They were always quarrelsome and 
rebellious. And here was a man guilty of sedition and murder 
who faced him as if he were a king. Well, he would pry into 
his mind. As this wretched race insisted on disturbing his 
peace, he would get all the satisfaction out of them he could; 
and here was an offender well worth questioning. 

“You are Zatthu?” he inquired. 

“Zatthu is my name.” 

‘And the name of a rebel and a murderer.” 


30 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“That is mere accusation. You make it as if it were 
proved. Is that Roman justice?” 

“Call it an accusation if you wish. Do you deny the 
charge?” 

“T do. I am neither a rebel nor a murderer.” 

“Yet you have been making Jerusalem a very hotbed of 
sedition, and murder is done by those who listen to your evil 
counsels.” 

“Again, accusation but no proof.” 

“The proof is here,” and with a weary air, as if he ought 
not to be put to the trouble of establishing what was perfectly 
well known, Pilate took up from a small table at the side of 
his chair a scroll of parchment. 

“On this paper,” he continued, “I find a full account of 
your wicked and treasonable doings. In particular it is 
stated that on the evening of the twenty-second day of this 
month of Adar, that is to say, just five evenings ago, you 
spoke in the Synagogue of Joshua at Jerusalem and urged 
the men who filled it to overflowing to rise against Rome.” 

“Again I say, a mere charge — just such a one as might 
be invented by one who wanted to do me harm.” 

“But the person who makes the charge was there and testi- 
fies to what he heard.” 

“Who was he?” 

Pilate laid down the paper and interlocked his fingers as 
before. He looked down, gazed at Zatthu for a moment, 
and looked down again. Finally he said, 

“He is a man whose word must be believed. I do not choose 
to reveal his name.” 

“Ts it written there?” 

Impatiently Pilate replied, 

“TJ am the questioner here, not you. These charges are 
made by men on whose every word Rome relies. It is for you 
to meet the charges. Once more I ask, do you deny them? 


PART I—ZATTHU d1 


“T have already said that I am neither a rebel nor a mur- 
derer.” 

“You must meet them more directly. Did you or did you 
not talk sedition at the Synagogue of Joshua on the evening 
of the twenty-second day of this month of Adar?” 

“T did not.” 

Pilate was puzzled. Not willing to meet steadily the fear- 
less flashing eyes of the prisoner, he yet seemed gradually to 
read his thought and to see how he could baffle him. A faint 
malicious smile stole over his face as he asked. 

“Did you tell your hearers to resist the rule of Rome?” 

pel id <3 

“And yet you did not talk sedition?” 

“Nig.72 

“You contradict yourself. You add falsehood to rebel- 
lion.” 

“What is rebellion?” 

“You do not need to be told. Answer your question your- 
self.” 

“T will. My people serve Jehovah. They but do His bid- 
ding when they throw off the yoke of a nation that insults 
Him by bowing down to unclean gods.” 

“Who is Jehovah?” 

“he creator of heaven and earth.” 

“How do you know? Did you ever see Him?” 

“No. Ido not count myself worthy. But our fathers saw 
Him and talked with Him of old.” 

“What was He like?” : 

“He is too mighty and too terrible to be described. Even 
his messenger is like a refiner’s fire.” 

“Like a refiner’s fire? Why should he be like that?” 

“To try men as silver is tried — burn away what is vile 
and leave only what is pure.” 

“A good thing, that, I should say. I should like to put 
men I know through the process.” 


3832 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“Would you like to go through it yourself?” 

“Why not?” 

“The fire burns fiercely. It burns till everything that is 
foul, everything that is base, everything that is cruel and 
lustful in a man is consumed. Sometimes there’s very little 
Jeft in a man when it dies down.” 

Again Pilate’s eyes sought the floor. His questioning of 
this prisoner was not bringing him unmixed satisfaction. 
Presently he asked, 

“Did your people always serve this Jehovah? I seem to 
have heard mention of kings of whom they are still proud — 
David, and Solomon, and others too.” 

“My country was great under David and Solomon long 
before Rome was founded. But Jehovah chose this line of 
kings for them, even as He chose my race to be his own 
peculiar people.” 

Again the sarcastic smile spread over Pilate’s face as he 
replied, 

“A doubtful choice, I should say. You have done nothing 
to justify it but bow your necks down to be stepped on; and 
seeing them in this inviting position, Rome has stepped on 
them.” 

Zatthu’s answer was not the explosive fury of a shallow 
nature. With calmness and not without majesty, he said, 

“This whole land has been dyed deep with the blood we 
have poured forth in fighting Jehovah’s enemies. When the 
time comes we shall pour it forth as freely and as gladly as 
before in fighting Rome.” 

‘And yet you claim you are not a rebel!” 

“YT have explained why I am not. Our cause is Jehovah’s 
cause. We own no earthly master. Rome will some day 
learn this to her cost.” 

“Perhaps you plan to murder us all as you murdered the 
sentry near Herod’s palace.” 

“You claim to have proved that I have talked seditiously, 


PART I—ZATTHU 33 


though you produce no witness and will not name your in- 
former. Let it pass. I will not fight the accusation, for I 
see it would be useless. But of this charge of murder I am 
absolutely innocent and I challenge you to prove it.” 

“The murder followed close upon and was occasioned by 
your own inflammatory talk; for your seditious harangue in 
the Synagogue of Joshua was but one of many you have 
made. The foul deed would never have been done had you 
not been putting lawlessness and murder into the minds of 
your countrymen. That you therefore are the real perpe- 
trator of this abominable act is evident.” 

“Tt is not evident. I deny it utterly. You insult justice 
when you brand me as a murderer and produce no evidence. 
I lift these chains as witness how wantonly Rome. treats her 
captives.” 

Zatthu held up his manacled hands and, still self-con- 
trolled, he yet spoke as one whose soul was shaken. His rich 
sonorous voice rang through the room. He seemed the 
accuser, not the accused, and his was the dominating presence 
there. 

Pilate was disturbed. He glanced furtively about him to 
see how this formidable prisoner was impressing the soldiers 
who had brought him in. Especially did he look to a Roman 
officer who was seated near him on the platform. He was a 
man of frank noble countenance and magnificent proportions. 
That Pilate had given him a seat of honor near his own magis- 
terial chair showed that he held some position of consequence. 
With a grave countenance he was noting and studying Zatthu 
carefully, but his expression gave no clue to his feelings. 
Pilate would plainly have been glad to get from him some 
intimation as to what his own procedure should now be. Re- 
ceiving none, he had to act upon his own initiative; but one 
skilled in reading character would have seen that the con- 
clusion he came to was reached only through doubt and 
hesitation. 


34 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“Quintus,” he said, addressing the centurion who had con- 
ducted Zatthu into Pilate’s presence, “remove the prisoner’s 
chains.” 

The order was obeyed, yet it was hardly a grateful look 
that Zatthu gave to Pilate in consequence. It was rather 
that of one who reads weakness in an enemy and wonders 
how far he can use it. 

“Roman justice,” said Pilate, “is stern but it is not cruel. 
It is not its wont to offer insults or to make accusations it 
cannot sustain. If it was not a man fired by your own in- 
cendiary talk that killed the sentry, who did it? Who could 
have had the wish or the interest to do it?” 

“You surely know that there exists in this country a band 
of men who are called Sicari, or Assassins. Stung by Rome’s 
wanton and hateful rule, they count it a deed of justice to 
slay a Roman in any way they can. It was doubtless one of 
this band who slew the sentry.” 

“Do you approve of them?” 

“They are patriots. It is not by such stray acts of blood- 
shed that Jehovah will set us free.” 

“How will He set you free?” 

“By lightning that will blast you. By fire from heaven 
that will consume you. By earthquakes that will swallow 
you up. By the angel of Death who will smite you as the 
hurricane levels the corn.” 

“Jehovah seems to have taken you into His counsels.” 

“f only count upon His doing for this present generation 
what He did for our fathers long ago.” 

“Enough. Your own words have convicted you of sedi- 
tion. It would only be justice to sentence you to death. 
But I prefer to keep you alive as a hostage. You will be 
imprisoned here and word will be sent to Jerusalem that if 
any uprising takes place there, your life will pay the forfeit. 
Quintus, take the prisoner away and guard him securely, as 
you value your own life.” 


PART I—ZATTHU 35 


“Shall I put the fetters on him again?” 

Once more Pilate looked at the young officer beside him, 
as if to get a hint whether clemency or severity should be 
shown. But as before the grave face was impassive. Pilate 
hesitated and then said, 

“No. I do not think that is necessary. When the cell 
door is fastened upon him, his countrymen will plot in vain 
to set him free.” 

As haughty and unsubdued as when he entered it, Zatthu 
went out of the magisterial room. 


36 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


VII 


When the cell door clanged upon him, he sat down and 
brooded over his present condition. Unwavering before Pi- 
late, he had to admit to himself that his plight was desperate. 
Cesarea was a Roman city; it was strongly garrisoned; 
there were few of his countrymen living in it. Looking about 
him, he saw that the prison was massively built and the win- 
dow of his cell was heavily barred. Escape seemed impossible. 

But the God of his fathers would not desert him. The 
cause he lived for was Jehovah’s cause. It could not fail. 
But would Jehovah make stone walls and locks and bars 
give way and restore him to freedom? What was he, Zatthu, 
that he should expect such a miraculous deliverance? His 
heart grew humble as he realized his presumption in so look- 
ing for a divine manifestation in his favor. For a while 
a distrustful mood took possession of him. LEarnestly he 
prayed that he might be forgiven if he had erred in putting 
himself at any time before his great and holy purpose. But 
as the hours passed his faith returned. His indomitable 
spirit was filled with a sense of Jehovah’s guidance and pro- 
tection. Trustful and resigned he sank into a deep sleep soon 
after sundown, for he felt the strain of the harrowing experi- 
ences he had been through. 

About midnight he was suddenly wakened. Something fell 
with a clash on the floor of his cell close to his bed of straw. 
Starting up at the noise and forgetting his whereabouts, he 
cried out, 

“Who is there?” 

“Hist!” came a low voice. “It is I, Kelita.” 

“Where are you? How came you here?” 

“fam at the window. Put a chair beneath it if you have 
one and stand on it. Then we can talk to each other.” 

Groping his way to the chair, Zatthu placed it underneath 


PART I— ZATTHU 37 


the window and mounted it. So standing, he found himself 
face to face with the hunchback whose form he could barely 
make out through the prison bars. The window was just 
below the ceiling of the cell, about six feet from the floor, 
and the chair brought Zatthu’s head just opposite the win- 
dow. No sooner had he placed himself than he inquired 
eagerly, 

“How came you here in Cesarea? How did you ever climb 
up to this window?” | 

“S-sh. This is no time for questions. Everything will be 
explained to you when the time comes. Speak only in whis- 
pers and not a word now. The sentry is about to pass this 
way. I hear his footsteps.” 

“But he will see you.” Zatthu could not forbear saying in 
the faintest whisper. 

“No,” was the equally low answer. ‘“‘It is pitch dark. Not 
a star is shining.” 

Both were now silent and Zatthu heard the sentry’s tread 
grow gradually louder and then as gradually fade away after 
he had passed by. When it was no longer audible, Kelita hur- 
riedly whispered, 

“TY am here to free you. In the package I threw down are 
three new files. Use them to cut through these window bars. 
They are heavy and you will have to remove two of them to 
make your way out. This will take time, for you must work 
carefully. I shall come again the fourth night from this at 
this same hour. Even if it is not very dark I shall come, for 
everything can be done right after the sentry has made his 
round; and before he makes it again we shall be out of sight 
and hearing if all goes well. I shall come under this window 
and make a low hiss. If you have not succeeded in filing 
the bars almost through, make the same sound yourself three 
times, and I shall go away. If the bars are sufficiently filed, 
throw down to me one end of the cord you will find also in 
the packages of files. Fasten it to one of the bars you 


38. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


have not filed and I will climb up by it. Then we will wrench 
the bars away and you will have no trouble in making your 
escape. Be sure and file very cautiously so that the cuts you 
make will not easily be seen. Have patience and may the 
God of Israel bless and keep you.” 

Before Zatthu could say a word in answer to these direc- 
tions, the dwarf had begun to climb down. He had been 
standing on the window sill in a bent and cramped position 
from which he was glad to relieve himself. How he had got 
over the high surrounding wall of the prison and how he had 
climbed up to a window fully ten feet above the ground filled 
Zatthu’s mind with wonder. But wonder quickly gave way 
to anxiety, intense distressing anxiety, as he listened to see 
whether by some untoward movement the attention of the 
sentries was not roused. Several moments passed and there 
was no alarm. Then he heard the low chuckle that Kelita 
often gave to express joy or satisfaction and he was sure 
that the dwarf had reached a place of safety. 

With a thankful heart Zatthu jumped down from his chair 
and groped for the package that had awakened him by its 
fall. It contained the cord, also the three files which had 
been so carefully wrapped in cloth of camel’s hair that they 
had not been broken when thrown down upon the hard floor 
of the cell. By feeling of them Zatthu satisfied himself that 
their fine rasping edges had not been smoothed or worn by 
use and that they would bite viciously into the iron of the 
window bars. 

“Jehovah has not forgotten me,” he murmured thankfully. 
“Though He slay me yet will I not lose my faith in Him.” 


PART I —ZATTAO ' » 89 


Vill 


Good reason had Zatthu to wonder at Kelita’s midnight 
appearance at the window of his cell. It had only been accom- 
plished by persistency, skill and cunning. 

The prison has already been spoken of as part of a large 
building in which was centered the business of governing 
Judea and Samaria and keeping all Palestine in order. Here 
arms were stored, records and reports preserved, official work 
transacted, and grave offenders, like Zatthu, tried, sentenced 
and imprisoned. 

Such being the important uses of the building, it was im- 
portant to give it ample security. ‘To this end a wall of brick 
some twelve feet high had been carried round the ample space 
in the centre of which the building stood. Only one gate gave 
admission through it and here sentries were always posted. 
Even at night when it was shut two soldiers were placed there 
and one of them made the round of the building twice every 
hour. 

To surmount such a high wall and evade the sentries was 
no slight task. To climb up the prison wall to a window ten 
feet above the ground was an equally difficult one. Yet both 
of these feats Kelita had accomplished. 

Undetected he had followed Zatthu and his escort all the 
way from Jerusalem to Cesarea. In the latter city, he had 
found where Zatthu was confined by worming himself into the 
confidence of a legionary on duty about the administration 
building. Passing himself off as a cripple who was too help- 
less to excite suspicion, he got information he wanted when a 
prison cell would have been promptly given him had his true 
character been known. 

Having located Zatthu, he had next to get to him. To do 
this he enlisted the friendly offices of one of his countrymen. 
Among the scattering Jews who had resorted to Cesarea was 


40 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


one Amariah who earned a livelihood by selling dried figs, 
sour wine and olive oil. He was himself a timid man and 
small of stature; but in his son Shobek the hunchback found 
the very ally he was in need of. This lad of twenty-two was 
a strapping fellow, over six feet tall and a Samson in strength. 
With him to aid his hazardous undertaking, Kelita went to 
the wall around the prison the night after Zatthu had been 
sentenced by Pilate. 

Standing erect with his back against the wall, Shobek 
helped the hunchback to climb up and stand upon his shoul- 
ders. Then seizing him by the feet he lifted him steadily up 
till both his arms were straight. But Kelita was too short. 
Strain as he might he could not reach the top of the wall by 
a handbreadth. | 

But Kelita’s crafty brain had provided against this failure. 
Another scheme was tried and worked successfully. Shobek 
had found for him a stout pole some ten feet long. To one 
end of this the hunchback clung, while, firmly grasping the 
other, the stalwart youth raised him till his hands could lay 
hold of the outer edge of the wall. This accomplished, he 
easily pulled himself up, such strength had he in his arms, 
and sat astride of this triumphantly surmounted barrier. 
The end of a rope he had been holding firmly in his teeth; the 
other end was grasped by Shobek while Kelita lowered him- 
_ self into the area by means of it. 

A more difficult task was now before him, that of climbing 
up to the window of Zatthu’s cell. It was more difficult be- 
cause he had to accomplish it unaided. The building was of — 
brick; but it had been constructed for strength and the bricks 
had not been laid with perfect precision. There were pro- 
truding edges; moreover the cement was not of the solid 
enduring quality that usually distinguished Roman building. 
Shrinking away into a dark corner whenever he heard a sentry» 
coming on his round, Kelita worked patiently at weak spots 
he found in the cement till he had made holes in which he 


PART I— ZATTHU A 


thrust nails he had brought with him. By means of these he 
made his way up to the window and had his interview with 
Zatthu. The nails he removed when he made his way down 
from the window. 

True to his promise he came again at midnight after let- 
ting four days go by. Arriving at the prison wall he listened 
for the tread of the sentry. In a few moments it was plainly 
heard. The man completed his round without seeing any- 
thing to awaken suspicion and the sound of his footsteps 
ceased. Now was the time to act. It was bright starlight 
and what was to be done must be done promptly.. There was 
no mantle of darkness to aid them. Everything depended on 
nimbleness and courage. 

Shobek, his stalwart helper, was with him. Mounting the 
wall with the assistance of his ally in the same manner as be- 
fore, Kelita let himself down into the area, stole noiselessly 
beneath Zatthu’s window and gave a sharp hiss. Breathlessly 
he awaited the answer. Would it be the three sibilant sounds 
that could only send him away or the lowered cord? To his 
joy he saw the cord come down. Zatthu had then been suc- 
cessful. The bars were ready to be wrenched away. Rapidly 
he swung himself up to the window. 

Yes, Zatthu had been successful. He had found that the 
files cut readily into the bars of the window and he had worked 
carefully and patiently at his task. Standing on his chair 
he had filed clean through two of the bars close to the window 
sill. This he had not found very difficult. The upper cut- 
tings had given him much trouble. The top of the window 
was beyond his reach, and he had been obliged to stand on the 
sill as he filed and held himself there in a very painful posi- 
tion with one hand. And there was always the risk that his 
cell might be suddenly entered while he was so employed and 
that no matter how spry he was, he could not cover up what 
he was doing. But fortune favored him. Before the after- 
noon of the third day had gone by he had made the upper 


42 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


filings as deep as he dared. All through the fourth day and 
the hours of darkness up to midnight he waited in a fever of 
impatience for Kelita’s signal. Yet he was trustful all the 
while. He was sure the dwarf had been chosen by Jehovah 
to effect his deliverance. 

The signal came. He was standing on his chair with the 
cord in his hand. Hastily he lowered it and pulled himself 
up onto the window sill. In a moment Kelita showed himself 
on the other side of the bars. 

“Ts it the two middle bars that have been filed?” inquired 
the hunchback. 

“Yes. They have been filed clean through below. They 
will easily give way above when a hard wrench is given them.” 

“IT will pull them away. I am better placed for doing it 
than you.” 

This said, Kelita seized one of the two and tugged hard at 
it. It came away altogether and he handed it to Zatthu, 
saying, 

“Drop it carefully on the floor of your cell so as not to 
make too loud a noise. It might alarm the guards. Now Vl 
remove the other one.” 

Grasping the second one he gave a sharp pull at it, using 
the same force he had used before. But unhappily he put 
too much strength into the effort. Without knowing it, for 
the position he had to take when filing prevented him from 
seeing perfectly, Zatthu had cut this second bar almost wholly 
through. It was hanging only by an iron thread. So readily 
therefore did it come away when Kelita wrenched it, that the 
dwarf lost his balance and in spite of a frantic effort to save 
himself fell with the piece of iron down upon the paved area 
below. | 

Agile as a cat he landed on his feet unhurt; and as he was 
wearing a soft-soled shoe to make his tread noiseless, his own 
fall might possibly not have roused the guards. But he had 
not dared to keep his hold on the iron bar, fearing he might 


PART I—ZATTHU 43 


land upon it and so injure himself that he could give no 
further aid to Zatthu. Down with a clang fell the bar on the 
stone pavement. Instantly were heard the footsteps of one 
of the guards, who came to see what was the matter. 

“Sh-sh-sh,” came the warning sound from the hunchback 
to the ear of Zatthu. ‘‘Leave everything to me.” 

Peering through the opening in the bars, which was large 
enough for him to thrust his head through it, Zatthu saw the 
hunchback crouch low at the corner of the building. Hurry- 
ing round the corner came the guard with his sword already 
drawn. But he had no chance to use it. Kelita’s knife was 
in his throat almost before he was aware that he was facing 
anenemy. With a groan that was hardly more than a gurgle 
and which even in the night stillness Zatthu heard but faintly, 
he stumbled forward. But he was not allowed to fall. The 
hunchback caught him as he sank and lowered him to the 
ground so that his armor did not clang upon the stone pav- 
ing. Immediately followed his whispered command to Zatthu. 

‘““Now come down quickly by the rope before the other 
guard is upon us.” 

Even before the direction was given Zatthu had begun to 
clamber down. He had such confidence in Kelita that he had 
thought it wise to let him take the first steps that the emer- 
gency called for. But the situation, bad as it was, must be 
faced. This staunch deliverer could not be allowed to face 
it alone. In a moment Zatthu was by the hunchback’s side. 

Into his hand Kelita thrust the iron bar, which he had 
picked up, and said, 

‘‘Now we will go to the corner of the wall where the rope 
is hanging. Walk slowly and heavily. The other guard will 
think it is his comrade and will be less likely to suspect mis- 
chief than he would if he heard no noise at all. I shall make 
no noise, for he mustn’t think there are two persons walking 
about.” 


Zatthu realized that the suggestion was shrewdly given. 


44. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


Accordingly he walked with a leisurely and solid tread after 
the hunchback to the corner which was some twenty steps 
‘away. But their mancuvre, though adroitly planned, was 
not successful. The other sentry had not really suspected 
that anything was amiss. Those regular unhurried foot- 
steps suggested no disturbance. He did not seem to be 
needed, but he was overpowered by curiosity. The gate was 
secure. He could leave it without risk. He would go and 
see what was happening. . 

So Zatthu and Kelita heard his approaching steps before 
they had got half way to the corner. Zatthu at once started 
to run. 

“Don’t run,” whispered the dwarf hurriedly. ‘That would 
make him give the alarm. Our chance is in having to deal 
with him alone.” 

Hardly was this caution given before the sentry got sight 
of them. Their leisurely pace puzzled him, but he was too 
shrewd not to scent mischief. That neither of them was his 
comrade he realized on the instant because he did not catch 
the gleam of armor. So he darted forward, commanding 
them to halt and calling at the same time on the sharer of his 
watch. 

‘““Where are you, Septimus?” he cried. ‘‘There’s mischief 
here. Come this way!” 

Hearing no answering footsteps, he grew suspicious as he 
ran; and crafty as all of Kelita’s movements had been after 
his unfortunate fall from the window, they did not bring the 
full success they merited. The guard raised a loud cry of 
alarm as he ran. 

“Help! Mischief! Help!” he shouted; and as he had had 
only some sixty paces to run, he was close upon them as the 
words left his mouth. 

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” he demanded, 
his sword drawn and held ready for a fatal thrust. 

As the guard put the question Kelita stole around to stab 


> 


PART I—ZATTHU 45 


him from behind. But the man was an old legionary and a 
wary fighter. He saw his danger. It was right by the wall 
encircling the prison that he had overtaken them. Into the 
very corner by which they had planned to make their escape 
he darted and continued to call loudly for help. 

“Use the bar while I draw a thrust from him,” whispered 
the dwarf, and with his long knife he rushed at the sentry as 
if to thrust him through. Almost did he receive a fatal wound 
for the soldier aimed a fierce blow at his head which he just 
succeeded in parrying as he dodged backward. But before 
the sword could be raised for another blow Zatthu shattered 
it with the iron prison bar. Dazed for an instant by this mis- 
hap, the sentry was off his guard, and Kelita darted in and 
slew him as he had slain his fellow guardsman by a stab in the 
throat where the armor gave scant protection. 

But the situation was desperate. The fallen sentry’s cry 
for help had been heard and heeded. Just inside the prison 
door slept a decurion with half a dozen men who had their 
weapons by them and who were in readiness for just such an 
emergency as this. ‘The decurion had not been sleeping 
soundly. He had heard the sentry’s first cry for aid, and by 
the time the man had fallen he had aroused the entire guard 
and with his men close at his heels was hastening to the scene 
of trouble. 

Kelita’s one thought now was to ensure Zatthu’s escape. 
Himself he gave up as lost. But much to his dismay Zatthu 
had rushed to the spot where the first sentry had fallen and 
possessed himself of his sword. A precious moment had been 
lost; but possibly there was yet time. 

“This way, quick. Over the wall. You have just time to 
save yourself,” cried the hunchback. 

“And leave you here to be killed? Never! I am going to 
die with you.” 

Kelita gave a groan of despair. He would have pleaded 
against this sacrifice and the consequent ruin of the Sacred 


46 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


Cause, but he had no opportunity. The decurion and his 
men were now upon them. The two Hebrews stood together 
in the angle of the wall, seeing no chance for life but deter- 
mined to sell it as dearly as possible. 

But not at once were they assailed. The decurion saw no 
reason for killing them instantly without parley. They were 
two against seven. It would be better to make captives of 
them; for surely they would surrender rather than be cut 
down. 

*““Who are you?” he said, advancing a step or two toward 
them but carefully guarding his person. 

‘Ah, I see,” he continued, as he peered at them through the 
gloom. “You are Zatthu, the prisoner brought here from 
Jerusalem, and a friend who thought he could set you free. 
By Pollux, he came pretty near succeeding. But you see you 
are caught. We are seven against two. Give yourselves up. 
It is sure death if you don’t.” 

‘‘And sure death if we do,” was Zatthu’s answer. ‘*We do 
not care to be executed by Pilate. We are going to die here. 
Come on! We are ready.” 

But more than ever did the decurion wish to capture 
rather than kill them now that he had recognized the prisoner 
who had been inciting rebellion at Jerusalem. Pilate he was 
sure would wish to have this notable character delivered up 
to him alive. So he fell back a step or two to instruct his 
men just how to make the attack, and as he did so he was a 
little off his guard. Even through the dim light Kelita saw 
his opportunity, darted forward like a springing panther and 
with his long knife slashed savagely at the decurion’s throat. 
Just in time to avoid a death wound the officer slighty swerved. 
He received a deep cut in the cheek and neck; but he was 
not disabled and his fiercest wrath was roused. 

“T will send this shorter knave straight to Hades,” he said 
to his men. “Do you close in upon the taller one and lay him 
low, but do not kill him. Pilate shall be his judge.” 


PART I— ZATTHU AT 


So saying he rushed at Kelita who was again standing with 
his back to the wall by Zatthu’s side. The decurion did not 
dare to thrust in the deadly Roman fashion, for he feared an 
answering thrust from the knife of the nimble Hebrew. It was 
a sweeping side stroke that he gave, and so mighty a one that 
it would have nearly hewn Kelita in two had he received its 
force. But he dropped to the ground as it was delivered; 
the decurion’s sword smote the brick wall so fiercely that it 
was dashed out of his hand; and the next moment he himself 
was lying flat upon the ground. For Kelita seized one of his 
legs, toppled him over, and then plunged his knife deep into 
his breast. 

Even in the brief time that this action had taken, the other 
Romans had rushed upon Zatthu and but for most timely 
and unexpected assistance he would have been disarmed and 
overpowered before Kelita could have given him support. 

It was from the tall and stalwart Shobek that the much 
needed succor came. All this time he had been guarding the 
rope on the outer side of the prison wall, he had with ready wit 
taken in about all that had been happening and had realized 
that the only hope lay in himself the moment he heard Zatthu 
_ refuse to surrender. 

He must act and for action he was ready. With his long 
stout pole he had pried up paving stones and piled them so 
high that by standing on the top of the heap he could just 
‘place his hands on the top of the high brick wall. Onto the 
wall he pulled himself up when he heard Zatthu defy the de- 
curion, and his pole he drew up after him. To avoid being 
noticed he had mounted the wall away from the scene of con- 
tention. He was therefore unheard and unobserved as he 
lowered his pole and dropped down himself into the enclosure. 

Stealing forward a few paces, he found himself in the rear 
of the six Romans just as they were beginning their onset 
upon Zatthu. Like a flash Shobek dashed after them with his 
pole for a weapon. And a deadly weapon it was. With a 


48 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


mighty side swing he brought it crashing upon the backs of 
two of the soldiers and they fell to the ground disabled — 
dead perhaps, but that was to be discovered later. Two of 
the others, startled by this sudden assault in their rear, 
turned to face this death-dealing intruder. With swords 
ready to thrust and slay they rushed at him, but only to their 
undoing. To avoid close quarters Shobek had .darted back 
the moment they turned. As they came at him he swung 
again with his terrible weapon and one of the two fell head- 
long with his side crushed in and but a few moments of life 
before him. In falling he hit his comrade, who staggered, 
recovered himself and then dropped dead as the pole de- 
scended with terrific force upon his unprotected head. For 
so sudden and so urgent had been the call for help that the 
decurion and his men had rushed out of the prison, sword in 
hand, but without helmet, shield, or breastplate. That they 
could possibly need armor they had not dreamed. 

Darting forward to dispose of the rest of the Romans, 
Shobek found that his aid was no longer required. Kelita 
had no sooner disabled the decurion than he sprang to the 
assistance of Zatthu, now sorely pressed by the two soldiers 
who had led the attack upon him. Sorely pressed indeed he ~ 
was, for his assailants realized that in some strange way 
things were going against them and they closed in, not to 
capture but to kill. Two against one, and Zatthu was a good 
but not a highly skilled swordsman. The end would have 
come quickly had not Kelita thrust his knife home into each 
of them from behind — but into the second only after he had 
given Zatthu a serious wound in the side. 

“You came in the nick of time, Shobek,” said Kelita as 
their tall deliverer loomed up in the gloom. “Had you arrived 
a few moments later you would have found your two country- 
men dead with some Roman corpses around them to show 
that they had met a brave man’s end, and then you could have 
done nothing but avenge them.” 


PART I—ZATTHU 49 


“Hardly that, I fear, if I had had to stand alone against 
half a dozen Roman soldiers. And perhaps it would not have 
been worth while. I am no lover of bloodshed. But this is no 
time for speech. Your friend here is hurt. I must see what 
I can do for him.” 

So saying he gave his whole attention to Zatthu who was 
indeed in a sorry plight. For a moment Kelita stood by to 
assist him, but seeing that his hand was deft he turned away 
to make sure that none of the Romans could continue the 
struggle. 

He found they were all too utterly disabled to show fight ; 
but the first two whom Shobek had laid low were writhing in 
pain and these he instantly dispatched. All of the others 
were dead or dying but the decurion, who, desperately but 
perhaps not fatally wounded, begged for mercy. 

“You shall have the mercy you would have given,” replied 
Kelita; and he gave him such a savage thrust that the man 
gave one groan and expired. 

“That was a foul deed,” exclaimed Zatthu, who, suffering 
though he was, had heard and heeded the piteous moan. 

“SA necessary one,” replied Kelita. ‘The man might have 
summoned strength enough to shout for help, and who knows 
how many soldiers there may be still asleep inside the prison? 
But now to work and instantly. Is your wound bleeding?” 

“Only a little. This good friend of yours and mine has 
staunched it.” 

“We must get you over the wall and it will hurt you. Can 
you bear it?” 

“Of course. Are we not serving Jehovah?” 

“True. I should not have doubted. But, alas! I do not 
see how the deed is to be done.” 

“IT do,” said Shobek. “Give me your knife.” 

With this he cut his own tunic into broad strips and three 
of these he knotted loosely about Zatthu, one just below the 
armpits, one about the waist and one just a little further 


50 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


down. Under these three bandages he passed the cord by 
means of which Kelita had mounted to the prison window, 
took the two ends in his teeth and mounted the wall by the 
rope placed for that very purpose to ensure Zatthu’s escape. 
Then he carefully pulled up Zatthu, while Kelita assisted 
from below and kept the wounded man from swaying against 
the wall. 

Zatthu bore the excruciating pain without murmuring, but 
he could not help giving a sigh of relief when Shobek finally 
brought him to the top and laid him upon the wall. 

‘““Now Kelita,” said the resourceful youth in a low, clear 
voice, “throw the pole over the wall, for we may yet want it, 
and climb up yourself.” 

Quickly the hunchback made the ascent, and, still directed 
by Shobek, let himself down on the other side. This accom- 
plished, Shobek lowered Zatthu as carefully as he had drawn 
him up and Kelita received him in his arms and laid him 
gently down at the foot of the wall. 

Shobek then dropped lightly down, bent compassionately 
over Zatthu and regretted that there was yet more suffering 
before him. 

“IT am going to take you up in my arms and carry you,” 
he said. “That is the only way and I will make it as easy 
for you as I possibly can.” 

“T do not question that,” said Zatthu, “but where are you 
going to take me?” 

“To my father’s, of course.” 

“No,” said Kelita, “‘to the house of my friend Binni the 
tailor. He will gladly shelter Zatthu and his wound will keep 
him here in the city for some time. Meanwhile those cursed 
Romans, who are always keen in tracking those whom they 
wish to punish, will ransack the city to find Zatthu and his de- 
liverers. You with your big, tall body will at once be under 
suspicion; but they would never think of little stooping Binni 
as a man who helped to do nine Romans to death.” 


PART I—ZATTHU 51 


“Perhaps you are right,” said Shobek after thinking a 
moment. ‘But are you sure Binni will want to take in and 
hide a man the Romans are hunting?” 

“T am sure of him as I should be of you.” 

“Very well, then. To Binni’s we will go. I will lead the 
way; do you follow with the rope and pole. We must leave 
no clues behind us.” 

So saying Shobek lifted Zatthu in his arms and with care- 
ful steps started for the tailor’s house, with Kelita close 
behind him. 


52 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


IX 


Nearly two months later three men were resting on the 
summit of Mount Carmel close by a path that crossed the 
range and connected Samaria with Galilee. It was the noon 
hour. The sun’s rays were piercing, for even in the month of 
Zif, which corresponds to May of the Roman calendar, it is 
warm at mid-day in Palestine. But a refreshing breeze blew 
in from the not distant Mediterranean; the trees that grew 
abundantly on Carmel offered shady and inviting spots. Be- 
neath the protecting foliage of an ancient fir tree the three 
wayfarers lay and talked, to all appearances free from care 
and pressing duties. | 

Care-free for the moment they were, yet they had escaped 
from dangers and alarms, and a task the most resolute might 
shrink from was before them. For these were the very three 
whom we last saw fighting for their lives against desperate 
odds; and Zatthu whom the other two follow devotedly is 
still on fire to accomplish his great purpose. But what they 
have been through and what they see before them will appear 
from their own conversation. 

“Has your wound given you no trouble Zatthu?” inquired 
Kelita. 

“None whatever. It is entirely healed.” 

“fam much relieved. I feared the rapid pace in the warm 
sun would irritate it. Ah, that was a deep stab. Many men 
would have died from it.” 

“Tt was not to be. My time had not come. Jehovah has 
work for me.” 

“Fam sure He has. It was He that kept them from find- 
ing you when they searched. That was a cunning place of 
hiding Binni contrived. Yet they came so often I thought 
they would discover it.” 

“T don’t think,” said Shobek, “their search was very thor- 


PART I— ZATTHU 53 


ough or that they put any heart into it. As a matter of 
course they hunted through every house in Cesarea that was 
occupied by one of our people. But they never doubted that 
you and those who rescued ave got out of the city the same 
night you escaped from prison.” 

“Ah, how puzzled they must have been!” exclaimed Kelita 
with a chuckle. ‘Nine Roman legionaries as dead as a cast- 
off snake skin, and not a trace of those who had so insulted 
mighty Rome!” 

‘There was only one way of explaining it,” said Shobek. 
“They thought a band came down from the mountains, over- 
powered and killed the soldiers and went back the way they 
came. This, you know, was the story I heard about the 
streets. I got just that from soldiers I talked with now 
and then.” 

“Short work those soldiers would have made of you,” said 
Kelita, “had they known the hand you had in the business. 
It makes me laugh to think how they were looking everywhere 
for the enemy who had done such unheard-of mischief; and 
there you were going about among them all the time.” 

“And they would be more anxious than ever to find you,” 
remarked Zatthu, “if they discovered that it was you who 
got us out of the city. I did not see how it was going to be 
done, the gates were so carefully guarded. But you managed 
it easily enough.” 

“A lucky thing it was that Meshullam was allowed to build 
his house so near the wall,” said Kelita. “It was a scant 
eight feet across, and that trusty pole of yours spanned the 
space completely after you had spliced that long piece of 
stout oak onto it. I did fear it would give way though when 
you pulled yourself across, hand by hand, with your long 
legs dangling down. Even my weight made it bend quite a 
little.” . 

‘And when you were on the wall,” said Zatthu, “you pulled 
me up so easily! I really think I could have gone across as 


99 


54. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


you and Kelita did, but you were afraid the strain might open 
my wound; so I let you haul me up, as I knew your strength 
was quite equal to it.” 

“What is strength of body?” said Shobek modestly. “It 
is your mind that will make the cause succeed.” 

“Tf it really does succeed,’? commented Kelita somewhat 
dejectedly. “But what can you do now, Zatthu? You can- 
not go back to Jerusalem. You would be recognized and put 
to death. And how can you accomplish anything in Galilee?” 

“Why should I not do everything my heart desires in 
Galilee?” 

“It is so far from Jerusalem, so far from our Temple. It 
would seem as if any great movement for our people must 
start from Jerusalem.” 

Zatthu did not reply at once. His wound and his long 
confinement had made his face look drawn and pale. The — 
tinge of melancholy that it always showed was deepened; at 
first glance he might have seemed dispirited. Yet his eyes 
had lost none of their fire, and no one that gazed into them 
could doubt that he was full of energy and hope. When he 
had gathered his thoughts and spoke, it was with the same 
glow of feeling and the same deep moving voice that had so 
often given his words a thrilling power. 

“It was here on Carmel,” he said, “that Elijah made the 
fire come down from heaven and consume the burnt-sacrifice. 
Where the faithful servant of Jehovah is, there will Jehovah 
be. If my cause is righteous, it will prosper, in Galilee as 
well as in Jerusalem. You are faint-hearted, Kelita, and it is_ 
faintness of heart that brings Jehovah’s wrath. When you 
thrust a Roman through, as your unhallowed creed bids you, 
you thrust with all your might. Can you not have the same 
faith in Jehovah that you have in your own right arm? He 
will guide me and be my stay. If we trust in Him all will be 
well. Prudence must not indeed be thrown to the winds. 


Ehijah hid from Ahab at the brook Cherith. It would be folly 


PART I— ZATTHU 55 


for me to go to Jerusalem to be seized and put to death. But 
Jehovah will be with me as I go about in Galilee and will put 
fire into my words. And I shall touch the hearts of the people 
there. Do not doubt it. The men of Galilee have more than 
once risen against Rome. They will do so again, and their 
rising this time will be like the flood that fills the valley or 
the wind that levels the grain.” 

“Yes,” cried Shobek, “it will be even so. When the men 
of Galilee hear you, they will cry as one man to be led against 
the Roman legions.” 

Silence followed for a time. Zatthu seemed lost in revery. 
His two companions did not venture to intrude upon his 
thought, but gazed upon the plain below them and on to 
Caesarea, whose turrets, distant though they were, gleamed 
in the unclouded sunlight. On the edge of the blue Mediter- 
ranean, the city was like a jewel of amber on the border of a 
deep blue robe. 

“It makes me laugh,” said Shobek softly, “‘to think how 
furious Pilate would be if he knew we were sitting safely here 
and looking down on his city. I almost feel sorry for him, 
he would be so beside himself with rage.” 

“Don’t feel sorry for a Roman, Shobek,” said Kelita in the 
same low voice. ‘He wouldn’t be sorry for you if he got hold 
of you and found out what you had done. He’d crucify you 
and laugh at your misery.” 

“I suppose he would, though I don’t understand how any 
one can take pleasure in seeing another suffer. Did you ever 
see a man crucified, Kelita?”’ 

“Once. A poor fellow who had taken to the mountains to 
rob and murder, and got caught.” 

“Did he suffer much?” 

“Of course; but he wouldn’t show it. He grinned horribly, 
and cursed the Romans till he made them angry. Then he 
spat at them and cursed harder than ever.” 

‘No wonder. If hate could do anything, the Romans 


56 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


would melt before us as the sand is washed by the waves. But 
I don’t feel any hatred for them. They are men like our- 
selves. Why should we hate them?” 

“Because they are Jehovah’s enemies.” 

“Do you think Jehovah hates them?” 

“Of course He does. Don’t they worship graven images?” 

“They don’t know any better.” 

“That doesn’t make any difference. I suppose the Canaan- 
ites and all the tribes that worshipped Baal did not know 
any better, but Jehovah wanted them killed to a man just 
the same.” | 

“Tt’s all very strange to me. When we rise, I’ll kill all the 
Romans I can, but I shall feel sorry for them when I do it.” 

“Did you feel sorry for the gnats you killed while we were 
crossing the plain this morning?” 

“Not a bit, not a bit! How can one feel sorry for an 
insect? I really do pity a snake though when I kill it and see 
it squirm. The poor thing doesn’t like to give up its life any 
more than I should like to give up mine.” 

“You were never cut out to be a soldier, Shobek.” 

“You are wrong, Kelita,” said Zatthu, who for some mo- 
ments had been following the conversation. ‘‘Shobek with his 
kind heart makes me think of David who twice spared Saul, 
but was the only man in all Israel who dared face the giant, 
Goliath.” 

Kelita was too discomfited by the illustration to be able to 
frame a reply. So Zatthu went on and for a long time held 
the attention of his two followers while he unfolded the mean- 
ing of the scriptures as he understood them. Jehovah, he 
felt sure, hated only evil doers; and it was them only that 
He wished to see destroyed root and branch. 

“Very well then,” said Kelita doggedly when he had fin- 
ished, “‘we will destroy these Romans root and branch because 
they are evil doers. Make the people hate these enemies of 
Jehovah who have their feet on our necks, or they won’t rise.” 


PART I—ZATTHU 57 


“They will rise because Jehovah calls them,” answered 
Zatthu with kindling eye. ‘They will rise as they rose of old 
when they heard the trumpet of Gideon, and nothing shall 
withstand their might. But the sun is lower and the heat less 
fierce. Let us make our way down into Galilee and find shelter 
somewhere for the night. Perhaps we may fall in with a 
band of robbers and share what they have. It is the injus- — 
tice and the cruelty of Rome that have made many of these 
men lawless and desperate. I expect to make friends with 
them and bring them under our banner when the time comes. 
David called such about him. Why should not I? 

“But follow me down the pathway. I would best go first. 
The pace that Shobek would set might be a little too fast for 
a man who was wounded nearly to death not long ago.” 


58 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


xX 


Mount Carmel being less than two thousand feet high they 
were not long in reaching the road that skirted its base. 
Taking it, they turned to the right and went on in a south- 
easterly direction. They were sure that they would come in 
time to a village or to some stray hamlet where they could 
find a rude but hearty hospitality. 

The Carmel range forms for a considerable distance the 
boundary between Samaria and Galilee. As it stretches on 
however from the coast to the southeast, its elevation falls 
away in places and its outlines are less bold. Its summit is 
not a continuous ridge. Here and there it becomes a series 
of hills with deep clefts or ravines between. But in ancient 
times it was everywhere thickly wooded. Hiding places in- 
numerable could the hunted find on its well screened sides. 

The road that our travelers pursued was now straight, 
and now winding as it rounded some projecting spur of the 
range. It was just as they were approaching one of these 
spurs and a clear view of the road before them was cut off, 
that they heard the unmistakable sounds of strife. What the 
trouble was they could not tell; but loud cries and the clash 
of steel told them that they were nearing a fray of some 
description. ! 

All of them were armed. It would have been folly to escape 
from a hostile stronghold without the means of self-defence. 
Kelita had the long knife he used so effectively.. Zatthu and 
Shobek had each gained possession of a Roman broadsword. 
With these weapons drawn they rushed forward, ready to 
take part in what seemed to be a fiercely contested struggle. 

On the run they made the bend in the road. Then they 
stood still a moment to take in the meaning of the conflict 
that was going on before them. Even the warrior, who rushes 
into battle as instinctively as the dog pursues the hare, needs 


PART 1— ZATTHO 59 


a reason for taking sides in a fray. But it needed only a 
glance to show the character of this encounter. In the road 
stood three well-laden camels. A few men, one of whom was 
-undoubtedly their owner, were guarding them and their bur- 
dens from a band of highwaymen. 

The conflict was spirited. There were but six of the de- 
fenders while their opponents were twice that number. But 
half of them had nothing but stout cudgels, while those who 
were resisting them had shields and well-tempered swords. 
Well-tempered ‘they certainly seemed to be, for in the onset 
which the robbers had made two of their number had been 
badly hurt and were crawling away from the road. This 
taste of success called forth a cheer from the defenders. 
Their assailants answered with a cry of rage and attacked 
more vigorously than ever. Side by side in a circle stood the 
six. At them again and again the highwaymen rushed and 
incessant was the shower of blows from sword and cudgel 
upon the rigid row of shields. Under the heavy and repeated 
tramping the dust rose in clouds and enveloped the com- 
batants. 

Ready as Zatthu and his two friends had been to render 
help where help was surely needed, they had with one accord 
stood still and watched when they saw what was going on. 
The contestants seemed evenly matched. What need to inter- 
fere? True, the smaller party was defending property 
against outlaws. Justice was on their side. But with these 
outlaws Zatthu, as has been shown, had sympathy. His com- 
rades shared his feeling. Hence, as the outlaws seemed to be 
getting worsted in the fray, why make the defence stronger? 
Besides, the owner of the camels and their burdens might be 
a Roman. 

The outlaws really did appear to be getting worsted. In 
their second furious onslaught, two more of them were dis- 
abled and obliged to withdraw from the fight. To be sure 
one of the defenders was wounded; but his comrades took 


60 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


him in the centre of their circle and still presented an un- 
broken front to their assailants. They were now five against 
eight. The victory was so far with them. 

This the outlaws seemed to realize. They drew off a little 
way and their leader began to parley. He declared himself 
ready to give up the battle if one of the three camels was 
abandoned to him. This proposition being refused, he argued 
insistently in favor of it, threatening to keep up the fight till . 
darkness came, unless these terms were accepted. 

But the parley was only a ruse, as was plain to the trio who 
stood watching. While the leader of the outlaws was talking, 
one of his men, who was nearly as large as Shobek in stature, 
had procured from the woods which hemmed the road a fallen 
log some ten feet long and nearly half a foot in thickness. 
When he appeared with this upon his shoulder, the outlaw 
captain cried, 

“At them again, comrades. As they won’t let us have one 
camel, we’ll take them all.” 

With five of his band he rushed again against the small 
circle that defied him. The other two were to manipulate the 
log, the impact of which would have well nigh annihilated the 
defence. For the scheme was a crafty one. While the six 
outlaws kept their opponents busy and shut off their view, 
the other two were to poise the log on their shoulders and 
charge with it at full speed. At just the right moment the 
assailants would step aside and two or three of the defenders 
would have gone down in a heap. 

But Zatthu saw through the scheme the moment the log 
was brought out of the woods and he determined instantly 
to baffle it. To see gallant men who were only guarding 
their own rights borne down by sheer brutality he could 
not endure. 

““Shobek,” he said, “you see what those knaves are going 
to do with that log. Run quick and stop them. You help 


PART I—ZATTHU 61. 


him, Kelita. I will go and parley with the captain of these 
fellows and convince him he had better give up the fight. 

With Kelita at his heels, Shobek hastened to do Zatthu’s 
bidding. There was joy in his heart as he did so. He too 
was moved to wrath when he saw the trick the outlaws meant 
to play and he was only too glad to discomfit them. 

But he acted prudently and warily. He had no thought of 
confronting the two ruffians with the log and opposing his 
brute strength to theirs. He wanted the satisfaction of spoil- 
ing their plan just as it was on the eve of success. Wholly 
absorbed by the part they were to play, the two outlaws did 
not notice him or his movements. Balancing the log upon 
their shoulders, they waited till the defending party was too 
busily engaged to observe them and then they began to run 
forward as fast as their heavy burden would allow. It was 
at this moment that Shobek gave them a very unpleasant 
surprise. Darting up from behind he vigorously shoved the 
log they were by no means easily carrying. Disaster followed 
quick and sure. The two outlaws pitched headlong and only 
just succeeded in keeping their unwieldy load from falling on 
top of them. In an instant Shobek seized the man of smaller 
stature, who was however by no means a man of slight build, 
placed him alongside of the sturdier bandit, and, with one 
hand on the neck of each pinioned them both to the ground. 
That viselike grip could not be shaken off. Kelita had all the 
time been standing by ready to give help as needed. But there 
was no moment when he had even to lift a finger to aid his 
stalwart ally. 

It was at this stage that Zatthu interfered. The outlaws 
had made no impression on their opponents, but instead had 
suffered further loss; for another of their number had fallen 
badly wounded. And seeing the two detailed to assault with 
the log lying apparently helpless, they stood discomfited and 
yet not quite willing to relinquish an effort that had promised 
so rich a reward. 


62 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“You are beaten,” said Zatthu, drawing near to their 
leader and addressing him. ‘And deservedly you are beaten, 
for it was a foul trick that you were going to play. I hope 
you are man enough to own that it was a knavish and dis- 
honest kind of warfare you were going to wage and to feel 
ashamed of it.” | 

“Who are you and why are you meddling?” replied the 
leader, turning sullenly to Zatthu. ‘“‘Keep your hands off! 
It isn’t your affair.” | 

“Tama Hebrew. Are you one?” 

“T was so born. Sometimes I have cursed the day that I 
was.” - 

“Nay, do not curse but bless the day that made you one 
of God’s chosen race. And use your sword against its ene- 
mies, not against men who defend what is their own.” 

‘And starve the while? I’m not a fool. Go your ways 
and let me go mine.” 

“You had best go your ways now. You see it is useless to 
continue the fight. We are eight sound men to your five, for 
that stout friend of mine has two of your followers held so 
fast that they can do no mischief. So, off into the hills 
from which you came down. But I shall find you some time 
and show you a better way to use your sword and a better 
way to keep off hunger. What is your name?” 

*“Barabbas.” 

“And mine is Zatthu. Remember; you will hear from me 
again.” 

The baffled and angry outlaw saw that it would be folly to 
prolong the struggle. He told his men to follow him and 
started up the mountain side. At a signal from Zatthu, Sho- 
bek released the two whom he had been holding down and who 
looked at him wonderingly as they rose to their feet. The 
larger one especially gazed hard at the youth who had so 
easily discomfited him, as if he were astonished at meeting 
a man more powerful than himself; for that iron clasp which 


PART I— ZATTHU 63 


he was still feeling had given him a vast respect for Shobek’s 
physical prowess. Then, after surveying their captor for a 
moment, they hastened after their leader and the rest of the 
band. 

As Barabbas turned his face toward the mountain, the 
man, who had been wounded and encircled by the other de- 
fenders, with difficulty made his way toward Zatthu, sup- 
ported on either side. 

“By Hercules,” he said extending his hand, which Zatthu 
hastened to clasp warmly, “that was a friendy deed. That 
vile scheme of theirs would have wrought our utter downfall 
but for your most timely interference. Yes,” he continued, 
while he looked at Shobek who now joined them, “I may well 
say ‘By Hercules’; for this .strong-limbed young man brings 
to mind the hero who wrestled with Antus.” 

“You are a Side I presume,” said Zatthu, “from the 
speech you use.’ 

“Yes, I was born in the city that was great under Pericles 
long before Rome laid her strong hand on the nations. But 
for seven years I have lived in this alien land, and during the 
last three of them my home has been in Capernaum, and long 
will be if all goes well.” 

“In Capernaum. Then you still have far to. go and you 
seem to be badly hurt. You must let my companions and 
myself go with you and give you whatever help you may 
need.” 

“Your aid will be most grateful. My wound is not dan- 
gerous, I think, but it is severe. That villain of a Barabbas 
got through my guard by a clever feint and his sword pierced 
my side. I shall have to be carried the rest of the way.” 

“My friend Kelita here knows how to heal wounds as well 
as to give them. Let him attend to yours.” | 

“IT will gladly submit to his care. My servant Charmides 
has a rough knowledge of surgery; but you who have shown 
your good will so effectively will, I am sure, not do anything 


64 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


amiss in dealing with this provoking injury. I am an old 
hand with the sword and it exasperates me to think I let that. 
villain get the better of me.” 

Kelita really had a good knowledge of medicine and sur- 
gery; and while he was dressing the wound, which though 
serious was not alarming, the Greek continued to converse 
with Zatthu. He was faint and in pain, but he bore his suffer- 
ing with fortitude. 

“Whither are you and.your companions bound?” he asked. 

“To no one place. It will not put us out to go with you as 
long as you may need us.” 

“Fortunate men, to be able to go in any direction you 
please! I do not seem to remember the time when I could 
start out without any goal to reach. I am a trader, you see; 
and the man of trade always has an end to pursue.” 

“I suppose you are the owner of these camels and their 
burden.” 

“Yes. I amon my way from Ptolemais where a ship from 
Tyre brought me a valuable lot of merchandise — silks from 
the far east; rugs that would tempt the wealthy to break the 
Mosaic commandment against covetousness; veils daintily 
woven; and fabrics colored with all the shades of the rich 
Tyrian dye. It is that precious stuff that the camels are 
bearing and that that crew of robbers wanted to get away 
from me. But with your assistance I am now sure I shall 
bring my goods home to Capernaum.” 

“But why do you take such a roundabout way? The 
direct road from Ptolemais to Capernaum would have car- 
ried you through Cana, much further north.” 

“True; but it is not all of these stuffs that I wish to carry 
so far. There are small traders in Jenin and other villages 
I am to pass through who are customers of mine and who 
will make these packs grow lighter before I reach my home. 
But your friend, whose touch I at once perceived to be skilful, 
has finished his task; and my servants have got a stretcher 


PART I—ZATTHU 65 


ready for me, I see. So we will now push on. We shall have 
to go very slowly, but I hope we may reach the village of 
Megiddo tonight as I had planned. But before we start shall 
we not exchange names? Your own I know, for I heard you 
declare it to the robber chief. But I do not know that of 
EIS, 7 77 

“This friend of mine, whose stature is short but whose arms 
are powerful enough to make his dagger a very deadly wea- 
pon, is named Kelita. My tall and stalwart follower is 
Shobek.” 

“And I am Timon Aristarchus. The Roman poet Vergil, 
whom I greatly admire, says the Greeks are not to be trusted 
even when bearing gifts; but you will find we are only too 
glad to recognize faithful service. Let us proceed.” 


66 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


XI 


So frequently did the route to Capernaum carry Aris- 
tarchus and his caravan through hilly country, where rob- 
bers might possibly be encountered, that he was not willing 
to part with his three efficient helpers till he reached his 
own city. 

Zatthu, from whom the other two readily took directions, 
was quite willing to accommodate him. He liked the genial 
friendly Greek and would have been glad to get better 
acquainted with him as they traveled together. But this the 
wound of Aristarchus made impossible. Even the very slow 
pace adopted made it very painful. Only a man of rare 
strength of will would have been willing to proceed before it 
was healed. But Zatthu did find opportunity to tell Aris- 
' tarchus privately that he was a fugitive from Roman justice. 
He thought this only honorable. What exigencies might 
arise, what persons they might meet while journeying to- 
gether, no one could say. Roman soldiers might encounter 
them and question them sharply. Zatthu and his two com- 
rades might suddenly have to flee for safety to the mountains. 

Aristarchus was not in the least perturbed by this in- 
telligence. 

“Tell me the whole story,” he said, summoning his strength 
and steeling himself against weariness and pain. 

Very briefly Zatthu gave an account of his arrest in Jeru- 
salem for seditious utterances and of his escape from the 
prison at Cesarea. 

“You did well,” said Aristarchus when he had finished. 
“The Greeks fought for freedom. Why should not the Jews? 
I am no friend of the Romans, though I have friends among 
them. I only wish you might succeed, but I fear your cause 
is hopeless. No nation in all the world can stand against 
Rome. But I cannot talk more. I am too tired.” 


PART I—ZATTHU 67 


Before they enteyed Capernaum Aristarchus summoned 
Zatthu to the litter on which he was borne. 

“I owe you and your friends not my property only, but 
my life,” he said. ‘I wish to make full recognition of this, 
yet I cannot offer you money. A man who has such a cause 
at heart as you have does not accept a money reward for 
saving life. How about your friends?” 

“T will ask them; yet I know their answer would be the 
same as mine. We do not draw our swords for pay. ‘That 
would be the act of hirelings.” 

“But I must do something to show you how grateful I am. 
You must all three come to my house and eat of my salt. 
Till you have done so, I shall feel that my debt is too heavy 
to be borne.” 

“But I am an outlaw. The same is really true of my com- 
rades. You must not receive us under your roof. You would 
get yourself into trouble.” 

‘“‘No one in Capernaum knows you. Your own people 
would not in any case betray you, and while you are my 
guests you would not be stirring up sedition so as to make it 
manifest that I was harboring an enemy of Rome. So, come 
for a day or two at any rate. You need have no fear what- 
ever on my account. The Roman centurion in command at 
Capernaum is a staunch friend of mine.” 

“He would be less staunch, I fear, if he knew whom you 
were urging to take shelter under your roof.” 

“Not a whit. His heart is as big as the sea. If he found 
you, he would arrest you; but he would have naught against 
me for taking you in, for I am no Roman. He would not 
think less of you for being a true patriot.” 

“Yet he would send me back to Pilate to be put to death?” 

“Yes, he would do that. As a Roman officer he could do 
no less.” ; 

‘Would that he were not a Roman. I should like such a 
man for a friend. But as he is what you say, I will partake 


68 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


of your hospitality for a brief space. For my two friends I 
cannot speak; but I will go and ascertain their wishes.” 

In a few moments Zatthu brought back from Kelita and 
Shobek a courteous but firm refusal. Kelita had a cousin in 
Capernaum by the name of Zichri, a dealer in shawls and 
other garments made of camel’s hair, with whom he could find 
lodging; and Shobek could also be sure of a hearty recep- 
tion. The hunchback was too intensely and narrowly Jewish 
to be willing to be the guest of an alien. And how Zatthu 
could do this, he was not able to understand. But fanatical 
in his devotion to his country, Zatthu was no mere narrow- 
minded zealot. He had not liked the genial Aristarchus, but 
he thought he might find him useful. Roman rule did not 
command his admiration. Might he not help to overthrow 
it and place that of Judea in its stead? And what if he was 
a Greek? He might still be a friend and a loyal one. Did not 
Hiram have the most amicable relations with great King 
Solomon? 


Parr II 
THE DAWNING LIGHT 


Teen 


Rae 
See teny x 


i 
iy 





PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 71 


I 


Capernaum was a thriving city in the days when Pontius 
Pilate ruled Judea. It stood at the northern end of the Lake 
of Galilee and stretched for a considerable distance along its 
shore. In it were found all the types of the most vigorous 
Jewish activity. Here were the cultured Pharisee and the 
learned scribe. Here were the merchant, the petty trader, 
the maker and repairer of small articles of daily use, the 
artisan and the fisherman. ‘The poor and the prosperous 
were alike found here; together they worshipped in the syna- 
gogue. On the lake below floated the craft of the men of 
substance and of the toilers for daily bread; and when the 
sudden squall brought danger, it was the rich as well as the 
poor who watched from the city’s edge the boats that labored 
with the white-capped waves. 

A populous and thriving city and a thoroughly oriental 
one. Silently and timidly veiled women, not so numerous but 
that the eye was arrested by sight of one, walked through the 
narrow streets. The vendor of small wares sang the praises 
of his goods with the liveliness of the rich eastern fancy as 
he traversed the thoroughfares with head erect and unmis- 
takable pride in his calling. In the booth where finery was 
on sale the proprietor noted keenly every passer-by and was 
as quick to see the smallest display in interest as is the sea- 
gull to detect the flash of fins near the surface of the water. 
A master psychologist he, who knows how to take advantage 
of even the most hidden yearning for acquisition. To stop 
and inquire the price of any article is almost fatal. And 
equally discerning and intuitive is his commercial brother who 
presides at a stall in the fish market. The fish are brought 
up daily from the lake on purpose to be sold; he is himself 
an unworthy descendant of father Jacob if he cannot sell 
them. Yet the buyer is a descendant of father Jacob too, 


12 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


and what a rare contest of wits there is when the two come 
together! A lively place indeed the fish market becomes when 
the catch has been plentiful, purchasers are numerous and 
trade is brisk. Not a fish sold without ample discussion of 
its weight and worth; yet the fishes all make their way into 
the homes of Capernaum and the surrounding country. 

And if less lively, not less interesting is the scene that daily 
takes place in some one of the more open spaces of the city 
when the story-teller, squatting on the ground with his legs 
crossed beneath him, holds forth to the group that is gathered 
by his fluent speech. Here is the man who has brought in his 
produce from the country on his donkey and who embraces 
this opportunity to carry away from the city something be- 
sides a small addition to his scanty hoard of silver. Here is 
the trader whose thirst for an intellectual treat has made 
him leave his booth for a few moments in charge of his alert 
and well-trained son. Pharisee and scribe, interested though 
patronizing and disdainful, are to be seen on the outskirts of 
the listening throng. And here are Syrians, Greeks, and 
other aliens, whom the growing and thriving city has drawn 
within its pale. Clad in both gay and sombre colored gar- 
ments the listeners stand and drink in the fanciful tale. For 
full of fancy it is sure to be. If it is a love story, it has as 
many tropes and metaphors as the Song of Solomon. [If it 
recites the prowess of heroes like the great Maccabees, it 
makes them beings too great and glorious for mortal guise. 
If it caters to the mind’s eternal craving for mystery and 
magic, it constructs a supernal land of marvel, incantation 
and romance. Whatever the story is, it is told with the art 
of the born narrator, and it holds the audience with its spell. 
Gain, toil, petty grievances and the world’s commotions are 
all forgotten. The dreaming Asiatic has been wafted into 
the land of dreams. He is in bliss. 

Yes, oriental, thoroughly oriental is the atmosphere of 
Capernaum. And yet it is thoroughly a Jewish city. Its 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 73 


people, in spite of the foreign element, is essentially a Jewish 
people, filled with an over-weening pride in the splendor of 
their history. The years of dissension, of exile, of subjec- 
tion to the passing Eastern dynasties, were not remembered. 
All those who had Hebrew blood in them gloried in the Hebrew 
name, the Hebrew tradition. They despised the tetrarch 
Herod Antipas; they loathed the Roman power that was 
behind him. Their hearts were as true to Jerusalem as were 
those of the exiles through their long captivity at Babylon. 
They would fain see it as great once more as it was under 
Solomon. If need be they would fight for it. Orientals they 
were, but not like the tame-spirited Persians who would kiss 
the rod that smote them. Alert, defiant, watchful, they were 
waiting for the opportunity to rise. The wrongs they suf- 
fered were ever on their minds. In low voices they spoke of. 
them when they met upon the streets. In their homes they 
vented their hatred for the rule that vexed their souls. As 
they wended their way from the synagogue on the Sabbath 
or after week-day gatherings, they looked about them to see 
if a Roman was near; and if the detested legionary was no- 
where in sight, they reviled the imperial city and its minion, 
the sensual Herod. 

Such was the city into which Zatthu was now to enter. A 
promising field it would seem for sowing the seeds of rebellion. 
What a bounteous harvest might be reaped from them! But 
Zatthu did not know that before his coming seeds were sown 
that would ripen into a diviner harvest. 


74 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


II 


Aristarchus’ house was situated at the eastern end of 
Capernaum. Consequently, as he and his caravan ap- 
proached from the west, they had to skirt or traverse the 
whole city to reach their destination. To avoid the gaze of 
the curious they skirted it. True, Aristarchus mingled freely 
with its Jewish citizens. That three Jews were walking 
among its armed retainers would have seemed in no way ex- 
traordinary. But Shobek’s tall figure would have drawn 
attention. Kelita, through the very contrast, might have 
been critically noted. Naturally then Zatthu himself would 
have invited close inspection. And if his figure was not im- 
posing, his face and his spirited carriage, once seen, were not 
easily forgotten. So it seemed best to give the gossip monger 
no opportunity. 

Even before they arrived at the border of the city Kelita 
and Shobek detached themselves from the caravan. Not 
without some heaviness of heart they said goodbye to Zatthu ; 
but as they took their separate way and followed a street 
that would lead them into the heart of the city, they looked 
back smilingly and waved a message of comradeship and 
staunch devotion. 

The caravan continued its slow way, encountering few 
wayfarers. It was the noon hour. The sun was hot. A hush 
rested upon the city. Turning at last into the street that led 
to the house of Aristarchus, men and beasts alike hastened 
their steps in anticipation. The perspiring litter-bearers 
were glad that their toil was soon to end; the camels gave 
unmistakable signs of satisfaction. Though to Zatthu the 
ground was unfamiliar, he did not need the assurance given 
him by one of the serving men that they were at the end of 
their journey. On the brow of the declivity that rimmed the 
Lake of Galilee stood a house with pillars in its front; while 


_-PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 75 


all around were the low, flat-roofed block-shaped houses that 
were found all over Palestine. In his architecture as in his 
mental habits Aristarchus was true to the land that gave 
him birth. 

“T want my wife and daughter to see you and thank you 
for saving my life.” 

These words the generous-minded Greek had uttered when 
he had insisted on bestowing hospitality; and Zatthu accord- 
ingly knew whom he was to find in the pillared mansion. But 
the kindly wish had raised no pleasant anticipations in his 
mind. ‘The wife and the daughter would appear. They 
would say ‘I thank you’ with the shyness and formality that 
enwrap the oriental woman like a garment impervious to the 
sun and the frost of intercourse. Just this much they would 
say and then bury themselves in seclusion. For intellectual 
recreation, for companionship, for an occasional social hour 
Zatthu would undoubtedly have to look to Aristarchus alone. 

It was but.a passing glance that he had directed to the 
house that was so soon to give him shelter. Even as he had 
caught sight of it the Lake of Galilee, which had heretofore 
been hidden by the city, revealed itself. This was not indeed 
his first glimpse of it. He had looked upon it from the cities 
of Tiberias and Magdala through which they had passed. 
All that morning he had been viewing it from the roadway 
which ran along its margin. But he had spent his life in 
Jerusalem with stony hills all around him; and this expanse 
of blue water was a fascinating sight. Blue the lake was 
this morning as it lay beneath a cloudless sky, its surface 
ruffled only by a faint and fitful breeze. ‘Here all the ships 
in the world might ride,” he thought as he looked to the dis- 
tant and dimly outlined southern shore. 

But his thoughts were interrupted, for something of more 
human interest came suddenly within his vision. Even while 
gazing on the lake’s peaceful bosom and noting the many sails 
it bore, he became aware that two white-robed figures were 


76 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


issuing from the house and coming toward the caravan. They 
came with a hurried and yet measured step. They were 
women, yet they were not veiled. 

No, they were not veiled; yet as they drew near they were 
seen to be women of rare beauty. Realizing who they must 
be Zatthu looked fixedly at them for a moment, turned away 
his gaze, and then found his eyes seeking them again. One 
of them, whose hair was slightly tinged with grey and who 
had a noble matronly air, was plainly the wife of Aristarchus. 
The other — at this very moment the other, who was now just 
oposite to him, turned her eyes and looked directly into his. 

There are moments that memory treasures through mere 
caprice; there are others it clings to simply because it can- 
not let them go. They are as vivid as a lightning flash upon 
a midnight sky. And to Zatthu such a moment had come. 
He was not in love. Love is not the creation of an instant 
any more than an autumn harvest. Each needs a maturing 
sun. But the eyes into which he had looked were so dazzlingly 
beautiful that a new consciousness had come into his life. 
He had had no intimacy with any woman but his sister. Her 
he loved and admired for the sympathy and encouragement 
she gave him; but with other women he had naught to do. — 
He did not seek them. He felt no impulse to seek them. His 
business was with men — solely and ceaselessly with men. 
Them he was. to reach and rouse; with them he was to do 
great things that would be told through countless genera- 
tions. But in an instant all was changed. One beautiful face 
had made him feel what men have felt ever since they were 
created, that woman is to be sought not shunned. This is 
her birthright. It belongs to her as surely as the river owes 
its waters to the sea. Zatthu had not known it before. He 
knew it now. 

Not that the full realization came to him then and there. 
He had no time to think. The scene that followed was too 
tender a one to be closely regarded, but none there could be 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT thi 


unconscious of it- The older woman raised her hand com- 
mandingly. The caravan stopped. Mother and daughter 
hastened to the litter of Aristarchus. Not raising himself up, 
for the effort would have been too severe, the wounded man 
showed his joy by a smile that illumined his face. 

“This pays for all the pain and weariness,” he cried, ex- 
tending his hands eagerly. “I am as glad to reach home as 
Odysseus was after his ten years’ wandering.” 

His wife did not speak at once. Her feelings were plainly 
too deep for words. She clasped his hands in her own and 
looked at him searchingly as if to make sure that his true con- 
dition had not been hid from her. But as she looked, anxiety 
gave way to joy and satisfaction, and her face beamed with 
love and pride. 

‘This is no time for words,” she said as she gently released 
his hands. “You must give Thisoa a greeting too, and then 
be borne into the house and rest, rest, rest.” 

But the daughter was not as chary of words as her mother. 
Zatthu, standing a little distance away, had been watching 
the two. Delicacy had at first made him turn his eyes away; 
but so open and so void of demonstration was the scene that 
to observe it did not really seem an intrusion upon privacy. 
The serving men stood around and noted what passed, almost 
as if they were expected to do so. So Zatthu found himself 
gazing, not indeed without deep respect and reverence, at this 
pleasing and affectionate family group. 

It was upon the daughter that his eyes chiefly rested. Her 
mother was plainly a forceful character. She could act; she 
could endure. But quietude, self-restraint, repose spoke in 
all that she said and did. In the daughter there was an 
abounding vitality. Her every attitude showed it. Her pres- 
ence seemed fairly to glow with life. Through filial reverence 
she had stood aside and let her mother be the first to approach 
the litter; yet all the time it seemed as if the daughter should 
have had the precedence. When her father greeted her, a 


78 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


lively reply seemed to come from her as naturally as the 
arrow darts from the bow when the string is released. Aris- 
tarchus indeed had scarce uttered a word before she inter- 
rupted him and exclaimed as she shook a warning finger at 
him, : 

“Tam Asculapius. He was killed by lightning to be sure, 
but he has come to life again and you are under his orders. 
So lie still and don’t say a word.” 

Aristarchus laughed-good-humoredly. It was plain that 
he did not object to the dictatorial ways of this vivacious 
daughter. But his feeling as a host prevented him from giv- 
ing immediate compliance. 

“Aisculapius,” he said, “thas a much greater claim to 
obedience than Zeus who killed him; but I must perform the 
duties of hospitality before I put myself under his orders.” 

As he said this he motioned to Zatthu to approach and 
immediately continued. 

“Before we pass within doors I must present to you both 
the generous friend but for whom I should not now be alive. 
This is he,” he added as Zatthu slowly came and stood beside 
the litter. ‘This is the man who drew his sword for me when 
I had no claim upon him. He is no doubt surprised to see the 
women of my household run forth into the open without veils 
to greet me, accustomed as he is to the ways and manners of 
Jerusalem. But when is custom not to be set aside if not 
for aman who has had too intimate an acquaintance with the 
sword of a bandit? And this daughter of mine — her name 
is Thisoa and her mother is Xenodice — has always showed 
disdain for rules and customs that did not fall in with her 
own ideas. And now” — he looked at his wife and daughter 
as he said this — “twill you both thank this brave man for 
his generous act and make him feel that he is welcome to our 
house.” 

“You are welcome indeed,” said Xenodice stepping for- 
ward and standing directly in front of Zatthu. “Words 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 79 


would fail me if I tried to express to you my gratitude. I 
shudder to think of the grief I should have suffered but for 
your timely service. From my heart I thank you.” 

“And I, too, thank you,” said Thisoa, smiling graciously as 
she spoke and once more looking Zatthu in the eyes for an in- 
stant. It was only for an instant, but as Zatthu gazed into 
the violet depths of eyes by far the most beautiful he had 
ever seen, he was again stirred by the thought that woman 
was not created to be shunned or let alone. 

The litter was lifted. All moved on; and out of the glar- 
ing sunlight Zatthu was ushered into the shaded and com- 
fortable house of Aristarchus. 


80 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


Il 


A servant in white linen conducted him to the room assigned 
to him. In a wondering mood he followed the man. Ordi- 
narily observant, he did not now look scrutinizingly about 
him and he got only the vague impression of elegance and 
taste- 

Once in his apartment he wished to be left to himself. But 
he let the servant remove the stains of travel from his feet 
and hands and help him attire himself in one of the fresh 
changes of apparel that had been generously provided. 
Grateful when the man left and closed the door behind him, 
he sat down to think. Bred and trained in the ways of a 
rigid sect, he found himself questioning whether his ideas 
needed readjustment. Those two women of noble dignity who 
had come out unveiled under the open sky and greeted him 
so graciously had set a wind playing on the stacked sheaves 
of his cherished conceptions. The stack had not indeed been 
thrown rudely down. It was only a little disturbed. Had it 
become necessary to pull it to pieces and build it all up from 
the bottom? Hardly so; but it needed a little reconstruction. 

It was while he was still brooding that the servant, Nicon 
by name, appeared again and invited him to go to Aris- 
tarchus’ own apartment. Surprised, yet gladly obeying the 
summons, he was taken to the bedside of his wounded host, 
whom he addressed on the instant he entered the room with- 
out waiting for him to speak. 

“This attention to a guest is most generous, but it would 
please me better if you obeyed the injunctions your wife and 
daughter gave you at your very door. I beg you to rest and 
not concern yourself about me.” 

“A sick man is always refractory and I am no exception 
to the rule. Rest I shall, but not till the rites of hospitality 
have been duly shown. I see you are freshly clad; that is 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 81 


well. Now you must eat and drink with me. Pray sit down.” 

Zatthu seated himself close to his host. He could not do 
otherwise. At a signal from Aristarchus Nicon brought to 
the bedside a table on which a slender repast had been pre- 
pared. ; 

“Those figs,” said Aristarchus, “were grown in our own 
garden and are entirely:fresh. I am sure you will find them 
palatable. You may think the barley cakes do not look 
tempting, but if you will try one I am sure you will be pleased. 
They are mixed with honey and I have never known Grumio 
—I brought him with me from Athens — to fail in getting 
the proportions right. It is a meagre offering to a hungry 
man after a trying experience with the poor fare of Galilean 
inns; but I shall see that a more substantial repast is served 
you soon. I merely wish you to eat a morsel with me now and 
drain a cup of wine to establish the tie of friendship. You 
are to be what we Greeks call éévos, the ‘guest-friend’ of the 
house. So first of all pray drink from the beaker which Nicon 
has filled for you. Your own health I shall drink in this 
greatly weakened mixture, as wine undiluted would not be 
good for my wound. 

“Ah, I see that you hesitate, but you need not do so. This 
tie puts no obligation upon you whatever. You have done 
for me what I never can repay. I want you to be my ‘guest- 
friend’ merely that you may feel my house to be your home 
and my interest and service always to be at your command.” 

Hardly more than a youth, Zatthu had a settled gravity 
born both from native seriousness and from the dominance of 
his great purpose over his mind. His force of character 
made him a leader; for some time he had been taking the tone 
of a leader in his dealings with men. This Aristarchus felt, 
and, much older though he was, he spoke not without defer- 
ence in so earnestly pressing his genial hospitality; and it 
was even with a shade of anxiety that he awaited his guest’s 


reply. 


82. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


The reply did not come; so the Greek continued, 

“Perhaps I am expecting too much. You Hebrews are a 
proud people. You seem to hold yourselves above all other 
races, and I believe your Mosaic Law makes you averse to 
eating and drinking with those whom you count aliens and to 
partaking of foods they daily use.” 

“Moses did bind my people to many usages and customs,” 
Zatthu said at last, “which prevent us from entering freely 
into relations of friendliness and hospitality with those who 
are not of our own blood. ‘These rites and customs came, we 
think, from Jehovah Himself, that we might preserve our race 
strain pure and be his peculiar people from generation to 
generation. And so I must confess to you that my mind has 
_ been undergoing a conflict. When I accepted your invitation 
to come here, I did not think of all that it involved; and the 
Mosaic traditions came home to me forcibly when you so 
generously urged me to become your guest-friend by partak- 
ing of your bounty. 

“But the conflict has passed. It has altogether passed. 
What I saw and heard as we neared your door has been as a 
light to me. Jehovah blesses a pure home. Surely, this home 
of yours is under his holy keeping. Surely He looked with 
favor on me when I helped to save you and He looks with 
favor on me now as I come beneath your roof for food and 
shelter. The Romans would find and slay me, yet you take 
me in. Truly, you are Jehovah’s servant and you do me 
honor when you would fain make me your guest-friend. 
Gladly would I be that, but I feel that I ought not to be. I 
am a hunted man. All that I shall ever bring you will be 
trouble.” 

“Let it come. I shall welcome it. Did you not save my 
Life ny a Sse NS 

“Hardly your life; only your property. They would not 
have put you to death in cold blood.” 

“They were just about to give a death stroke to my com- 


® 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 83 


panions. Some of them at any rate you saved from destruc- 
tion. So if the scruples occasioned by your race and creed 
have vanished, I pray you drink with me and eat of this 
simple fare.” 

Both drank and Zatthu ate, somewhat hastily, a fig and a 
bit of the barley cake. Then he rose and excused himself, for 
he knew the interview had brought more fatigue to his host 
than he had anticipated when he gave free play to his impulses 
of hospitality. But as Zatthu strode away he was halted by 
a request that gave him a shock of surprise and pleasure. 

“Will you not,” said Aristarchus, “allow my wife and 
daughter to receive you later after you have eaten and rested? 
They wish to give you a heartier and friendlier welcome than 
they could before you had passed under our roof.” 

Zatthu bowed gravely and said, 

“Your consideration knows no bounds. It leaves nothing 
unthought of or unsaid.” 

*‘Nicon will wait on you then sometime before sundown.” 

Zatthu bowed once more and went to his own apartment. 


84 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


IV 


There he was soon served with a bounteous meal which con- 
vinced him that his host’s praise of the cook Grumio was well 
warranted. But though he could but realize that the dishes 
were deliciously prepared, he did not eat with the zest of a 
hungry man. His mind was upon what the day had brought 
and what it was yet to_bring. 

The doughtiest enemies human beings have to face they 
coin with their own brains. Superstition, tradition, usage 
rout men who would not quail before an army with banners. 
And never was a sect or a class more dominated by usage and 
tradition than that to which Zatthu belonged. ‘The Pharisees 
were slaves to the beliefs and practices which their party had 
long held sacred. They had indeed become formalists of the 
most uncompromising type; and though they had thus 
stamped themselves as ardent patriots they had at the same 
time grown to be fierce and intolerant bigots. They were 
patriots because they held that Hebrews of unmixed blood 
were alone acceptable to Jehovah and would be raised by Him 
above all the nations of the world. They were bigots because 
they thought by sacredly keeping their time-honored observ- 
ances they made themselves immeasurably superior to the 
common herd of men. Of the highest importance therefore 
was it to bow absolutely to tradition and to obey every jot 
and tittle of the law. The Pharisee who violated ancient rite 
and custom made himself unclean. 

Zatthu could not but be strongly swayed by the beliefs and 
traditions of his sect. Happily he was too large-minded to 
make a fetich of them. It was not without a shock that he 
had seen Aristarchus’ wife and daughter come forth to greet 
him unveiled; yet he soon felt that these women were too 
dignified and noble to be regarded with anything but deep 
respect. In all matters of behavior and decorum they must 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 85 


be a law unto themselves. Hence it was his very profound 
recognition of their worth and of the beautiful character 
they gave to this home he was enjoying, that made him willing 
to become Aristarchus’ guest-friend. 

Yet how strange it was and what did it mean? Jehovah 
was guiding his every step. Of that he felt sure. Without 
that confidence how could he go on with his mighty task of set- 
ting his country free? Had not Jehovah delivered him from 
prison when everything seemed hopeless? And surely it was 
under the leading of this same Jehovah that he found his way 
directly from Cesarea to the spot where the generous-minded 
Greek was fighting for his property and his life. 

Yes, none but the mighty Jehovah had brought him into 
this friendly home, and who could say what end He had had 
in doing so? Perhaps these kindly Greeks would turn to him 
for light, spiritual light. Perhaps they would bow to the 
God of Abraham and Moses. Perhaps they would lend their 
influence to the cause so near to his heart. Those two women 
of noble and commanding presence showed a ready interest in 
his great ambition. And what a glorious part had been 
played by the women of his nation in the past! There were 
Miriam and Deborah, and Manoah’s wife and Esther; yes, 
and the dread deed of Jael, the wife of Heber the Kenite, was 
not to be forgotten. 

True, that stately girl with the lustrous eyes could never 
be a Deborah. That was not thinkable. She was not of his 
people; such as she could never lead and inspire them. Yet 
from her and her mother and from Aristarchus too he might 
get sympathy and counsel. Who could say what means 
Jehovah would use to confound His enemies? Did He not 
raise up Cyrus to capture Babylon and release the Hebrew 
exiles from their long captivity? Aristarchus was a trader, 
but he was not sordid. He might be led by Jehovah to give of 
his labor and his substance to the holy Cause. 

The Cause! On that did Zatthu now brood long and 


86 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


fondly. But for the faith that was in him its prospects were 
not bright. He was an escaped prisoner. The Romans were 
everywhere looking for him. He had to abandon Juda and 
plant sedition in Galilee — in Galilee where were Syrians and 
Arabs and Pheenicians and other aliens living side by side with 
his own countrymen. What a mixed host would be formed 
out of these men of varying race and varying traditions? 
Could it lay low the serried Roman legion? Yes, he was sure 
it could. Had he not just now been seeing Jehovah’s hand in 
the great deliverance that had been wrought for him at 
Cesarea? It could not fail when the freedom of the chosen 
people was at stake. 

To confirm his faith he dwelt upon the past. His spirit 
waxed strong within him as he thought of all that the God of 
his fathers had done for the generations of long ago. ‘Those 
wondrous deeds now almost seemed to be enacted before his 
very eyes. He saw the Red Sea engulf the host of Pharaoh. 
He saw the brazen serpent lifted up in the wilderness and the 
water gushing out of the smitten rock. He saw the priests 
pass dryshod over the bed of Jordan. He saw the walls of 
Jericho fall, the Philistines plunge to destruction when Sam- 
son pulled away the pillars of their temple. 

Absorbed in thinking of these wondrous manifestations of 
Jehovah’s power, he was oblivious of the passage of the hours. 
His soul was transported, a feeling of exaltation possessed 
him. The things that would be done were greater far than 
the things accomplished of old. And it was through him that 
they would be wrought. He was humbled and yet exalted at 
the thought of it. The day might come when he would inter- 
pret the will of Jehovah. A wondrous thought, that; yet he 
must never let it lead him astray. If he was to be a leader 
like Joshua or a messenger like Elisha, he would always re- 
member that without Jehovah’s will not a single Roman could 
be thrust down into the dust. 

It was while his soul was thrilled with thoughts like these 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 87 


that he was summoned to go to the wife and daughter of his 
host. Mechanically he rose and followed the servant. His 
mind was still on the things he was to do. The zeal for per- 
forming them burned so strongly in him that it was with a 
kindling eye and an exultant tread that he walked into the 
room where the two women were awaiting him. He was more 
like a prophet ready to disclose a vision than a fugitive from 
justice who might on the morrow be captured and put to 
death. 

Xenodice’s greeting was stately yet most cordial. Neither 
she nor Thisoa was now attired in spotless white as in the 
morning. -Xenodice had on a grey robe which toned with the 
greyish color of her hair and which fell in graceful folds from 
her matronly figure. But matronly though she was, she car- 
ried herself superbly and her easy bearing as she advanced a 
few steps to meet Zatthu and show him peculiar graciousness 
might have been a model for Esther when she wanted to win 
the favor of Ahasuerus. Her eyes were dark and large; her 
features were finely moulded; and so noble was her presence 
that no one who was sensitive to the charm of a perfectly 
poised womanhood could have been tempted to turn from her 
at once to behold the more brilliant beauty of her daughter. 

Not so was Zatthu tempted, even though he was immedi- 
iately conscious of Thisoa’s captivating personality Hers 
was indeed a challenging and arresting beauty. ‘Tall as 
Zatthu himself, and slender in figure, she walked with so elas- 
tic a step that her motion seemed like joyously dancing waves. 
Her mother’s features were of the purely Grecian type. Her 
own were shaped by nature when, in one of her defiant moods, 
she banishes rule and law and yet secures a surpassing loveli- 
ness. Perfect regularity they had not. But they were deli- 
cately moulded, and the mouth, whose naturai curves were 
almost those of a smile, together with the sparkling eyes made 
the whole countenance radiant. And this beaming brightness, 
which made her presence felt like a burst of mellow sunshine, 


88 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


was enhanced by the masses of golden hair that were gathered 
in shining coils above her low broad forehead. In her robe 
of soft purple she was a figure of rich and entrancing beauty. 

“Again let me thank you for the service you have done us,” 
said Xenodice as she stepped graciously forward. “And let 
me, too, welcome you to our home.” 

The full grey eyes looked smilingly into his. With just 
enough of a smile to soften his austere gravity, he returned 
the glance, bowed low and said, — 

“You magnify the service. Your welcome honors me 
greatly.” 

Xenodice motioned him to a chair. All sat and she con- 
tinued, 

“Will you not sometime bring your two friends here? I 
should like to tell them too that I never can forget what we 
owe to them.” 

“T will gladly bring them if they will come.” 

“Why should they be unwilling? Do not men always like 
to be praised when they have done a brave and generous 
deed?” 

“Not always. ‘These friends of mine think of one thing and 
live but for one thing — to free Judea.” 

“But you have honored us by coming here, and my husband 
tells me that for this same end you, too, have labored, been put 
in prison and barely escaped death.” 

“They follow, I lead. The eagle must fly where the spar- 
row does not go.” 

*““And what does the eagle see that is hidden from the spar- 
row?” inquired Thisoa. Contrary to her wont she had been 
up to this time silent, for Zatthu had seemed to cast a spell 
upon her from the moment he had entered the room. His 
bearing had not been without majesty. His rapt expression, 
his measured tread and his deep gravity had given to his 
presence a distinction which was emphasized when he spoke. 
His rich sonorous voice was all the more impressive because 


PART II— THE DAWNING LIGHT 89 


of the entire calmness of his tones. Their very tranquillity 
suggested a reserve of power. And this quiet forcefulness was 
deeply felt by Thisoa. So dominated was she by it that her 
utterance, half-playful though it was, was made in a spirit of 
deep seriousness. The man interested her. She was eager to 
know his mind. 

Zatthu turned his eyes to her as she spoke. Splendid as 
her beauty was, it had roused no deeper feeling in him than 
had been awakened when he saw her first. In the hours that 
had just passed he had consecrated himself newly to his pur- 
pose. It now burned within him like a flame. It made him 
not easily sensitive to other emotions. And yet these words 
of the beautiful Greek almost startled him. He caught the 
note of sobriety in the rallying question. Was there here a 
spirit intense, soaring, responsive to high ambitions, even like 
his own? With unchanged gravity, but with’a tinge of curi- 
osity in his look, he answered, 

“Things not lightly to be told. Coming earthquakes ; 
mountains falling; floods covering the earth.” 

“Like your people, you talk in figures. I can guess at 
your meaning, but I am not sure of it. Will you not tell it 
to us plainly?’ 

“Tell me first your guess.” 

“You mean war against the Romans and their downfall.” 

“Exactly that. I need add nothing.” 

“It will really be?” 

**T am sure of it.” 

‘And sure of the end?” 

“Absolutely sure.” 

“What makes you sure?” 

“My faith in the God of my people.” 

“The God whom you call Jehovah?” 

“Even so.” 

“What will He do?” 


“Fight with us; destroy our enemies.” 


90 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“What makes you think He will?” 

“He did it of old. He will do it again.” 

‘“Has He always done this for your people?” 

‘Not always; not for many hundred years.” 

“What made Him stop and why should He begin again 
now?” 

“My people sinned continually and worshipped false gods. 
Now they worship Him alone.” 

‘You seem very sure. I hope your trust will not prove 
your undoing.” 

“Tt will not do that. Without it we should fail; with it 
we shall overwhelm our enemies. But I have lingered long. 
TI must not strain my welcome, for which I thank you both 
from the depths of my heart.” 

And before any protest could be made Zatthu rose, bowed 
profoundly, turned abruptly and walked out of the room. 

So quick and decided was his action that quiet acceptance 
of it seemed the only possible thing. So Thisoa and her 
mother watched him depart without speaking. After he had 
disappeared Thisoa sat for quite a while, in silence. Then 
she said to her mother, 

“That, mother, is a man. If he does not succeed he will 
fail as gloriously as Leonidas and his brave Spartans did when 


they fell at Thermopyle.” 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 91 


V 


The following morning Zatthu began to look about him in 
a spirit of curiosity and to get more definite impressions of 
the character of the house and its furnishings. Until now he 
had been too absorbed by his ambitious projects to take a 
deep interest in his surroundings. 

The house was a very spacious one and artfully constructed 
to get the currents of air that blew across the lake from the 
mountains around. Its rooms were large and high. Their 
arrangement was rather that of a Roman than a Greek man- 
sion, and yet the Roman manner of building had not been 
closely followed: for in the large atrium near the entrance, 
as well as in the stately peristyle in the rear of the mansion, 
was a fountain whose constantly playing waters gave forth 
a cooling sound. The seats in the atrium were plainly de- 
signed for comfort and for daily living. On either side of it 
were ample chambers for the use of guests, and it was in one 
of these that Zatthu was lodged. A passage, closed only by 
draperies, led to the peristyle, the middle space in which was 
surrounded by columns and open to the sky. Artistically 
arranged about the columns were abundant flowers and 
shrubs in pots or boxes filled with earth. It was on either side 
of the peristyle that the rooms especially devoted to the uses 
of the family were built. Back of these was the kitchen; be- 
yond was a carefully cultivated garden. 

So different was this whole interior from that to which 
he had been accustomed in Jewish houses that Zatthu noted 
it all with interest so far as he could do so without intruding — 
upon privacy. But the thing that impressed him most was 
the absence of bronze and marble statues. Not one was to be 
seen. The furnishings were rich and even sumptuous. The 
draperies, the chairs and other furniture of wood and bronze, 
the vases, the tessellated floors all gave evidence that taste 


92 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


had been shown and expense not spared in giving the house 
beauty and completeness. But Aristarchus had been mindful 
that he lived among a people to whom graven images were an 
offence. So, under his roof there was to be found no likeness 
of anything in heaven above, or on the earth beneath, or in 
the waters under the earth. 

It was while he was examining a massive and beautifully 
carved seat of olive wood that he was called by Nicon to the 
bedside of Aristarchus.” The Greek was in a cheerful mood. 
He had slept well. He felt the responsibility of a generous- 
minded host. He was anxious that his guest should be in no 
doubt that he was heartily welcome. 

‘“You see me so well this morning,” he exclaimed, “that I 
shall soon give Asculapius his discharge. And how is it with 
you, my friend? Did this air from the Lake of Galilee give 
you refreshing slumber?” 

“T could not fail to sleep soundly in a home where comfort 
is showered upon a guest like the rains brought by the 
western winds.” 

“T rejoice to hear it. And will you not rest here this morn- 
ing after your long and weary journeying and this afternoon 
tell my wife, my daughter, and myself that wonderful tale of 
your escape from prison? You know you gave me only the 
most meagre account of it. I want to hear it in full — not a 
single thing left out.” 

“Y will willingly tell the story, but rest I must not. This 
morning I must seek my friends and find what they have 
learned. ‘They have not been idle, you may be sure.” 

“Will you not bring them here? My wife and daughter 
would be glad to see them and thank them for so generously 
helping a stranger.” 

“It is the shout of battle, not honeyed words, that they 
long for.” 

“Do your countrymen not love praise?” 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 93 


“Does the hunter court the cooling shade when he finds the 
leopard’s tracks?” 

“Always the tyranny of Rome. You and your followers 
think of nothing else. Do you all dream of it at night?” 

“IT do, myself, sometimes.” 

“And do you see the rod you bow to broken in pieces?” 

“Rather do I see a monster of clay shattered into frag- 
ments and trampled into dust.” 

“I should be glad to see your dream come true were it not 
that fire and sword would devastate the land if this should 
be. Well, do not forget that your friends will be warmly 
welcomed here if they choose to come. And do not linger too 
long with them. Two or three hours before sundown we shall 
expect to hear your story.” 

Though Aristarchus had not been encouraged to expect a 
visit from Kelita and Shobek, the visit was very shortly made. 
Going from the room of his host to his own apartment, Zatthu 
found his two followers in the atrium whither they had just 
been ushered. Since they had parted from him they had 
picked up news which they thought he ought to know. Not 
being sure that he would seek them immediately, they had 
come without delay to him. Finding they had things, im- 
portant at least in their own eyes, to communicate, he took 
them to his room where they could talk in freedom. 

‘And what have you discovered?” Zatthu began. 

“We have discovered,” answered Kelita, “that Rome is on 
your track.” 

“Did you suppose I doubted it?” 

“But,” said Shobek, “they know here in Capernaum all 
about your escape from prison. They are looking for you 
here. Wherever there are Roman troops they are watching 
for you.” 

“They may watch. They will not find me. No one heré 
knows me.” 

“But they may bring spies from Jerusalem,” added Kelita. 


94. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“I do not think it. Is Rome terrified that she should so 
fear me? And as she does not know where I am, she would 
have to scatter her spies all over Galilee. It is not enough 
that they should know about me. Why, they would have to 
arrest half the men in Capernaum if they were going to act 
upon mere hearsay rumors of my doings.” 

“But they will note that you are a stranger here,” said 
Shobek. 

“That is hardly possible. There are too many people in 
the city for a newcomer to be so easily detected. However, 
I will go to my host and present the case. If he thinks there 
is anything in these fears of yours, I will at once find shelter 
somewhere else. I must not imperil him. Wait for me here. 
He will want me to bring you to him when he finds you are 
here.”’ 

Sending Nicon on to request a second interview, Zatthu 
was immediately summoned to the room of his host. Present- 
ing to Aristarchus the fears of Kelita and Shobek, he was 
gratified to find them treated with scant consideration. In- 
deed, Aristarchus laughed at them and demanded that the 
two apprehensive Hebrews should be brought at once into 
his presence. 

“You will never make warriors,” he exclaimed when they 
appeared, “if you are so easily alarmed. What can a general 
do if his followers tell him to hide in a cave for fear of being 
captured?” 

Shobek laughed good-naturedly. Kelita seemed a little 
crestfallen. 

“We have but one general,” he said, ‘“‘and all is lost if any- 
thing happens to him. I got him out of prison once, but I 
might not be able to do it again.” 

“Yes, you did get him out of prison, and a famous feat it 
was. I do not blame you for not wishing to repeat it. But 
our friend Zatthu is perfectly secure. No one in Capernaum 
knows him, I am sure, and as for arresting him because he is 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 95 


a stranger here and might be the man who caused such a ter- 
rible commotion at Caesarea — why, that is absurd. Make 
your minds easy; and now that you are here, I want my wife 
and daughter to see you both. It is not every day that they 
can look upon men who have saved my life. They want to 
thank you for doing it. I know you are modest, but you 
must let them see you. I have sent for them. Ah, here 
they are.” 

Xenodice and Thisoa entered the room at this moment, and 
greeted the two doughty followers of Zatthu with extreme 
graciousness, but with fine tact and understanding. Enough 
was said to show sincerely felt gratitude; not enough to give 
a tone of flattery to the words of appreciation. 

The words did not have the same effect upon the two. 
Shobek, in spite of his modesty, was pleased, but too embar- 
rassed to say anything in reply. He blushed and. bowed 
awkwardly, but, opening his mouth to speak, found speech 
not forthcoming and so closed it without uttering a word. 
Upon the hunchback, Thisoa seemed to cast a spell from the 
moment she entered the room. He gazed at her in open-eyed 
wonder, and when she spoke to him he looked up at her ador- 
ingly as if she were a visitant from a higher world than his 
own. When she and her mother withdrew, which they did as 
soon as they had said what their feelings prompted, he seemed 
to be in a revery. Hardly collecting himself to say a word 
of farewell to Aristarchus he followed Zatthu who very 
quickly brought the interview at Aristarchus’ bedside to an 
end. Never had the lonely man, made shy by his deformity, 
been under a woman’s refining and restraining influence. 
Could the beautiful Greek have talked much and often with 
him, she might have softened those fierce and savage instincts 
which made him delight in killing a Roman by fair means or 
by foul. But he never saw her again and to the end he 
remained Rome’s deadly and vindictive enemy. 


96 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


VI 


Their apprehensions having been quieted, Kelita and Shobek 
pressed Zatthu to accompany them to their abiding place. 
This he did and walked with them to the central portion of 
the city, where Zichri, the shawl dealer lived. So much had 
he heard about Zatthu from his cousin Kelita that he greeted 
him most heartily, and -yet not without caution and reserve. 
The prudent trader was a patriot. Still, he was averse to 
seeing hoardings scattered, homes ruined and blood flowing 
in streams unless the sacrifice was not to be a vain one. 

Zatthu talked with him long enough to win his confidence. 
Then with Kelita and Shobek he sauntered for a long while 
about the city. It was all new to him. Even though the 
presence of a Roman garrison made it impossible for him to 
linger long and labor there, he yet wished to study the people 
and the place. He took in from a safe distance the solidly 
built quarters of the soldiers. He passed by the synagogue 
of black basalt, a stone much quarried in Galilee. He noted 
the faces of the people he met upon the streets and wondered 
at the number of Syrians, Arabs, and Pheenicians, and other 
aliens whom he saw mixed with his own countrymen. Maiuld- 
ness and goodhumor showed upon most of the countenances. 
These were not men smarting under wrong and eager to 
avenge it. Still, rebellion had broken out more than once in 
Galilee. He was sure the same spirit could be roused again. 

After a time Kelita conducted him to the humble abode of 
a man who lived at the western end of the city. The man was 
very old. He knew Galilee, so Kelita had learned from Zichri, 
better than any one in Capernaum. Many, many years had 
he travelled among its villages as a vender of small wares. 
Now, white-bearded and dim-sighted, he had ceased to toil 
and was living on his memories of the past. Eagerly he 
peered into Zatthu’s face when confronted with him, and it 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT OF 


was some moments before his scrutiny ended. Then he shook 
his head and muttered, 

“A leader! A leader! Elisha or [salah one have looked 
as you do — but I do not know, I do not know.” 

For a long time Zatthu talked with him. Information 
about thoroughfares, byways, mountain passes, and villages 
small and great he got from him. At last, bidding him good- 
bye and promising to come again, he wended his way back to 
the house of Aristarchus. It was now the late afternoon. 
He would wait another day before mingling with the elders 
of the synagogue or with other Jews of weight and substance 
in the city. The promise he had given Aristarchus to tell of 
his escape from prison must be kept. 

It was into a room devoted to the uses of Xenodice and her 
daughter that he was in due time ushered. The apartment 
was a@ spacious one in the rear of the house and was ap- 
proached through the peristyle. It was comfortably, not 
luxuriously, furnished. Evidences of taste and refinement 
were everywhere to be seen. The tints of the rugs were soft 
and agreeable. On the walls were hangings daintily embroi- 
dered by Thisoa and her mother. Chairs of the hard orange- 
brown shittim wood, that were at once comfortable and artis- 
tically designed and carved, gave the apartment a homelike 
appearance. On a table of the same material stood a vase 
filled with flowers that had been gathered from the garden 
just outside. This garden was not the large one in the rear 
of the mansion, but a smaller enclosure in which the two 
women of the household could have entire seclusion. It was 
surrounded by a high wall and could be entered from the 
apartment by a connecting door. But it was a cabinet upon 
the wall that more than anything else caught Zatthu’s eye. 
Half open, it showed a number of wooden cylinders such as 
manuscripts were kept in, by the Romans especially, in an- 
cient times. This was truly a cultivated household. The 


98 ZATTHU-—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


mind was nurtured and trained, while the eye was s taught to 
delight in what was beautiful. 

Had Zatthu looked forward to this hour when he would 
again gaze into the violet eyes of the daughter of his host? 
Undoubtedly he had; but his desire to see her had not been 
a restless one. Sentiment had not been roused in him. Still 
was his mind too full of his one great purpose to have room 
for another passion. Yet he had not forgotten Thisoa’s 
quick strong grasp of his loftiest designs as he had unfolded 
them in the previous interview. Here was one who felt the 
appeal of what was heroic and great. To see this fervent 
spirit show its enthusiasms would be a satisfaction. And cer- 
tainly the satisfaction was not lessened by the beauty of the 
face that would radiate sympathy. 

Hearty was the greeting Zatthu received as he entered the 
room. Aristarchus had been brought in on his couch. ‘The 
moment he got sight of Zatthu he exclaimed, 

““Ah, here you come with that stately step, as if you had 
scattered your enemies, and were ready to receive congratu- 
lations. Really, I wonder that Pilate did not ask you to take 
his seat instead of putting you in prison. But you are right 
welcome, to my wife and daughter here as well as to myself.” 

Xenodice and Thisoa smiled and made it plain that this 
kindly feeling was shared by them also, Xenodice adding her 
own brief words of greeting. Zatthu’s acknowledgment was 
characteristically brief. Fluent as he was in speech, the lan- 
guage of politeness never flowed readily from his lips. Its 
suave exaggerations often seemed to him painfully insincere. 

“You are worthy hosts,” he said as he bowed low, and that 
faint smile, which to those who knew his habitual gravity was 
like a sunbeam chasing over dark waters, played over his face. 

“If we were worthy of our guest,” answered Aristarchus, 
“we should inquire whether you found your friends com- 
fortably lodged — for that you went home with them I have 
no doubt — and whether this Galilean city of ours gives 


PART I1—THE DAWNING LIGHT 99 


promise that it will aid your great enterprise. But we are 
too eager to hear your story to be polite. Pray tell it to us 
then without delay. Our interest in your welfare and your 
prospects we shall show later.” 

“Ves, this will be so much better than a book,” said Thisoa. 
“Yt will make the Iliad seem tame.” 

“Yet it is a bloody tale I have to tell. Will it really give 
you pleasure to hear how brave men were slain?” 

“Yes, indeed! The same pleasure that it gives me to read 
how the Spartans fell fighting at Thermopyle. If men have 
the courage to do such things, women should have the heart 
to hear of them.” 

Zatthu looked searchingly a moment at the speaker as she 
said this. A girl who could so readily give a reason for her 
feelings had not before crossed his path. Were there Jewish 
maidens like this? Perhaps. He had seen none. 

“Bravery, I must admit,” he answered, “‘is a stirring theme. 
It thrills me to read how our great king David when he was 
but a stripling killed the giant Gohath with a sling. And it 
is an exciting story I have to tell. What my two friends did 
ought to be sung by a poet like your Homer. I fear my own 
narrative will disappoint you.” 

But the narration was too vivid to cause disappointment. 
Zatthu’s loyalty to his two rescuers made him give color to 
his words. So eager was he to do justice to their valor and 
resourcefulness that he described their actions with warmth 
of feeling and vigorous phrase. 

‘A noble adventure, nobly told!” cried Aristarchus when 
he had finished. ‘The exploit was indeed worthy of a Homer’s 
powers, but one would not really wish for a more thrilling 
account than you have given.” 

“What do you suppose the Romans thought,” asked Thisoa 
‘“‘when they examined the bodies and saw how battered and 
bruised some of them were?” 

Zatthu darted another inquisitive glance at her before he 


100 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


answered. She had manifested the liveliest interest in his 
story as it progressed. Now that it was over, instead of 
showing enthusiasm she asked a question that proved she had 
given attention to the details as they were presented. Here, 
it occurred to him, was a mind that would be a useful ally in 
the planning of large things. But could he, who would shake 
the yoke of bondage off of his nation, find an ally in a girl of 
alien race and false beliefs? No, no! It was preposterous to 
think it. 

“IT have wondered over that myself,’”’ he answered. ‘No 
doubt they were puzzled. The truth they could not have 
guessed, for surely no such fight was ever fought before.” 

*‘And now that your story is told,’ said Xenodice, “let me 
thank you for telling it. As my husband has said, it needed 
no better narrator than yourself. Never have I listened to 
anything so thrilling. But it is time for us to ask about your 
plans and prospects, if we may. You told us something of 
them when we saw you first; will you not tell us more?” 

“Do you really wish to know?” 

**We do indeed.” 

“That seems to me strange.” 

“Why so?” 

‘““Because you are not of my race and worship.” 

“What of that? Is not a struggle for freedom always a 
thing of the deepest interest?” 

“Yes, to a noble mind it is. But you are Greeks. You do 
not feel the tyranny we Hebrews writhe beneath. I should 
expect you to call it an act of folly instead of a struggle for 
freedom.” 

“It would be noble and heroic still,” was Xenodice’s quiet 
answer. 

“And though we do not bow to your Jehovah, we do not 
worship the Greek or the Roman deities,” said Thisoa. “They 
are too much like ourselves.” 

“You have learned what it took my own people hundreds 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 101 


of years and bitter suffering to learn. Hardly had they 
been delivered from Egypt by great wonders before they made 
and worshipped a golden calf. Under many of our kings they 
went astray and bowed down to images of Baal. They were 
sorely punished and they have learned at last to worship 
Jehovah who made heaven and earth.” 

‘Flow do you know He made heaven and earth?” 

“Fle has told us that He did.” 

““When did He tell you?” 

“Long ago. In our sacred books.” 

“He did not come Himself and tell you?” 

“He showed Himself to Moses and talked with him face 
to face.” 

“To no one else?” 

“Not so fully. But by angels whom He sent, by signs and 
wonders, by answering the prayers of our holy men and 
prophets, He revealed Himself again and again through many 
hundred years.” 

“TI wish I could see Him. I should like to worship the one 
who made the earth and the sun and the moon and the stars. 
Our Greek Zeus never did that — no never in the world. He 
had to be created himself.” | 

‘And so he couldn’t create, you think?” Zatthu inquired. 
He was finding it deeply interesting to probe the mind of this 
girl who had thoughts and problems of her own. 

“No,” she answered, “not the sun and the moon and the 
earth. How could he? I could shape all sorts of things out 
of clay, but I should have to have the clay to begin with.” 

“Does your god Jehovah,” inquired Xenodice, “tell what 
becomes of us after death? I had a son three years older than 
my daughter here. He died when he was but ten, and I have 
grieved for him ever since. It would be a great joy to know 
that I was to meet him again.” 

“Jehovah has told us little about what is in store for us 
after our life here is ended. But our holy men have known 


102. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


that the grave takes only the body, not that within the body 
which never dies. And when King David lost his dearly be- 
loved son, he said, ‘I shall go to him, but he will not return 
to me.’ ” 

“TI, too,” said Aristarchus, “should like to know about all 
these things; but we asked our friend to come here that he 
might tell us a story, not that we might put ourselves at 
school. I hope that if he feels willing he will tell us what 
signs of encouragement he sees here in Capernaum. But let 
us not trouble him with further questions about these things 
that are as deep as the sea and as high as heaven.” 

So Zatthu told briefly about his experiences during the 
earlier part of the day. So kindly was the interest that was 
shown in him and his project that he felt it would be ungra- 
cious to wrap his doings in secrecy. But there was so little 
to tell that he made his account a brief one and excused him- 
self as soon as it was ended. He felt that it was quite time 
to leave Aristarchus to rest. 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 103 


VII 


“I have tasted your salt. I have, though not without hesi- 
tation, let the tie be established between us which you so 
generously wished to form. I have told the story of the 
prison adventure in the presence of your wife and daughter. 
And now I must take my leave and be about my business.” 

“Where are you going?” 

“To the house of some Pharisee. Kelita’s cousin named 
several yesterday who would gladly give me shelter.” 

“But why leave here?” 

“Because I ought to be with my own people.” 

Such was the conversation that began when Zatthu on the 
following morning was taken to the room of Aristarchus. 
But the Greek stoutly resisted his guest’s decision. Zatthu’s 
strong personality was felt through the house. His pres- 
ence seemed the dominating one in it. In the brief time that 
he had been there he had made husband, wife, and daughter 
all feel that his interests were theirs, his relation to them a 
living and vital one. There would be a painful void when he 
was gone. So it was with strong feeling that Aristarchus 
said in reply to Zatthu’s wish to be with those of his own race: 

“Be with your own people every day. Go about among 
them. Consort with them. Consult and plan with them. 
But all the while make my house your home. Should the 
rumor by any possibility get round that Zatthu, the escaped 
prisoner, was hiding in Capernaum, you would be safest under 
this roof. All the Jewish houses would be searched. They 
would not think of looking for you here.” 

“But you would be aiding and abetting treason. I am 
seeking to make my people revolt. You give me shelter. 
Rome would count you, too, a rebel should all this be known.” 

“That is my concern. I do not fear the consequences.” 


“They may be grave.” 


104 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“No. Marcus the centurion here would protect me. He is 
my friend. He would not think I had done wrong in giving 
hospitality to the man to whom I owed so much. Besides, we 
want to hear more of your traditions and your faith. Zeus 
and Apollo are dead. They never really lived. But we 
Greeks, like all peoples, would fain be worshippers. Stay 
and tell us what to believe.” 

Like all his race Zatthu had been brought up in the belief 
that Jehovah was the God of his own people and none but 
Hebrews could be under his peculiar care. And yet this 
appeal impressed him deeply. Perhaps he was chosen by Jeho- 
vah to lead this just and upright household to the truth. 
So after a moment’s thought he answered, 

“T cannot say ‘No’ to such a request. I will remain with 
you until the Sabbath has passed by. That is two days 
hence. Your hospitality is most generous.” 

“To you how could it be other than free and open? And 
now that you have yielded, though but partially, to one wish, | 
I am going to press another. My friend Marcus, the cen- 
turion of whom I spoke, is coming here this morning. I want 
you to know him.” 

“That could not be. It would get you into trouble and 
ruin me and all my hopes.” 

“Oh, you are not to meet him. That of course would not 
do at all. I want you to go into that room adjoining where 
you can hear all we say without being seen.” 

“Your proposal is tempting. I should like to know the 
man’s character and mind. It might some time be of use to 
me. But would it be quite fair to do this?” 

“Not if he were to give away secrets. But we shall talk of 
nothing he would be unwilling for you to hear about if he 
knew you were at hand. So you would be no spy. You would 
simply be getting acquainted with a peculiarly frank and 
honorable mind.” 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 105 


“Well, I will do as you wish. How soon do you expect 
him?” 

“At any moment. He sent me word that he had heard of 
my mishap and was coming to see me. Ah, there is Nicon 
coming now. I hear his tread. Perhaps Marcus has arrived 
and is wishing to know if I am ready to receive him.” 

It was as Aristarchus had supposed. Nicon entered and 
said the centurion was waiting in the atrium. He was bidden 
to usher him in and as the servant went out, Aristarchus said 
hurriedly to Zatthu, 

“Remember that my servants who helped drive off the rob- 
bers were all strictly charged not to tell of the assistance we 
had from you and your friends. They are trusty and have 
certainly obeyed their instructions. No story of the help you 
gave has got about. So be at ease, Marcus has not come 
here to make any discomforting inquiries.” 

Zatthu nodded by way of reply and stepped into the ad- 
joining room. He found it to be a dressing or retiring room 
such as becomes more of a necessity than a luxury in a large 
and well furnished house. He seated himself and soon found 
himself listening to a conversation of absorbing interest. 


106 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


Vill 


In a moment or two a heavy tread heralded the approach 
of the Roman centurion. He received the heartiest welcome 
from Aristarchus and equally cordial was his own greeting 
to his wounded friend. 

“Delighted I am,” Zatthu heard him say in a deep, musical 
voice, “to find you so much like yourself. I was grieved, in- 
deed, when I heard of your mishap. Was the wound deep?” 

“It wasn’t one of those savage thrusts your Roman broad- 
swords give. I shall soon be well of it. And it was my own 
fault. I am ashamed when I think how I let that fellow get 
by my guard.” 

“Tell me all about it. Just where did it happen and how 
much of a fight did you really have?” 

‘‘Not much of a one. We beat the fellows off easily. They 
came at us while we were passing a spur of the Carmel range. 
Carmel is well wooded, you know. I suppose they have their 
nest somewhere on its slopes.” 

“Tt is a nest that ought to be cleaned out. How many of 
the ruffians were there?” 

“JT didn’t count them. I believe they outnumbered us by 
one or two and we were seven. But you see we were better 
armed, and so we routed them without any trouble though 
the fellow I crossed swords with did manage to make his 
weapon bite.” 

The next fragment of conversation Zatthu followed imper- 
fectly. He was amused at the plausible falsehoods by which 
his own part in the conflict was hidden; he was also con- 
cerned by them. That Aristarchus should on his account be 
forced to deceive his friend troubled him. He was therefore 
glad to hear the subject dismissed by Marcus’ declaration 
that Mount Carmel must be searched and the lair of the 
marauding band discovered. “I hope you will find them,” 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 107 


said Aristarchus. “Otherwise I shall feel like taking a 
stronger guard on my next trading expedition. They might 
grow in numbers, you know. But tell me the news. Shut up 
as I am, I haven’t got in touch with things here. First of all, 
how are Naarah and the children? Does Miriam grow to 
look more like her mother; and that black-eyed little rascal 
of a Cornelius — has he cut all his teeth yet?” 

“We are all of us well. Miriam continues to look strik- 
ingly like her mother, though I am not able to believe that 
she wil ever be as beautiful as my Naarah. As for little 
Cornelius, whom I named after my father you know, if I were 
to judge by the troubled hours I have spent with him, he has 
a great many more teeth than any child needs. Black though 
his eyes are, like his mother’s, he has a Roman face and he is 
going to be a real Roman man. But no more about my 
family. I have my faults, but I am not going to be one of 
those parents that bore their friends by talking about their 
children.” 

“A oreed, provided you tell me one thing more. Is Naarah’s 
grandfather well, and where is he now?” 

“He is well, though he has aged rapidly ever since he came 
back from Rome to spend his last years in his own land. He 
is living now with his nephew Phinehas in Nazareth. He 
never would do more than visit with Naarah andme. He said 
young married people should have their home to themselves.” 

“A fine old man he is. I should like to see him again. 
Well, as you don’t want to talk about your family, tell me 
of the city. What has been happening in and about Ca- 
pernaum?” 

“What has been happening?. That is not an easy ques- 
tion to answer. Many things have been happening. Sham- 
mua the Sadducee has sold a lame donkey to Hilkiah, one of 
the rulers of the synagogue, you may remember, for twice its 
value, and has thereby brought much dissension into the 
synagogue. Some side with Hilkiah and say he was shame- 


108 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


fully cheated; some with Shammua, claiming that Hilkiah 
was served exactly right for buying with his eyes shut. My 
sympathies are all with the donkey, for the poor beast has 
to carry loads that are much too heavy for him. And then 
old Kadmiel who was ninety-nine years old last Adar and 
whose one desire is to be a hundred, nearly died in a fit of 
choking, bati.2.477 

“Stay, stay Marcus. I don’t want to know who has 
sneezed or how many windy days there have been. It is real 
news I am after. Ah, I know your mind so well. When you 
put me off with these trifles, you have something of conse- 
quence to tell, something that deeply interests you. What 
cpp hara 

There had been a twinkle in Marcus’ eye when he volubly 
related these trivial happenings. Now his face became grave 
as he said, 

“Yes, there is a thing that is now interesting me above all 
others. It is the appearance of the man Jesus of Nazareth 
who was heralded by John the Baptist. You may have heard 
that John the Baptist said a greater than he was to come 
after him. I think he has come.” 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 109 


IX 


These words of Marcus startled Zatthu so that he almost 
betrayed his presence. John the Baptist! So that strange 
fanatic was misleading people still! He himself with other 
Pharisees had gone out from Jerusalem to hear him when he 
preached in Judxa and baptized many in the Jordan. But 
his words were wild and malevolent. The men of light and 
leading like himself he had called a “generation of vipers” ; 
the rough ignorant people he had greeted as brethren. Such 
a man was a menace to any true movement for national de- 
liverance. And this man Jesus could be no true leader if his 
way had been prepared by John. Eagerly Zatthu waited for 
what was to follow. 

“TY remember John the Baptist,” said Aristarchus, “though 
I saw him only once and I did not know he called himself the 
herald of another. Is he preaching still?” 

““No, he has been put in prison by the tetrarch, Herod. 
That evil-living prince, as you know, married Herodias, his 
brother Philip’s wife. For this act of licentiousness John 
rebuked him and roused Herod’s wrath, as the Hebrew 
prophets roused it of old when they told a king to his face 
of his evil deeds.” 

“The Herod line has not been noted for clean living. I am 
glad one of them has been called to account for his misdeeds. 
But this man Jesus you were speaking of— where have I 
heard of him before? His name is familiar.” 

‘Perhaps when he was at Capernaum the first time a little 
while before the Passover. He was in the city for a few 
days then.” 

“No, I remember now. When I was on my way to Ptole- 
mais and passed through Cana, they told me a strange story 
of a thing he did there at a marriage feast. They said he 
turned the jars of water into wine. But of course I counted 


110 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


it an idle tale, invented by some one who had taken too much 
wine himself.” 

“TY should be slow in setting down anything said to have 
been done by Jesus as an idle tale,” answered Marcus gravely. 
“He is an extraordinary man.” 

“But you really do not believe he is working miracles like 
those the Jews claim their old-time worthies performed?” 

“YT cannot shut my eyes to the fact that he is doing exactly 
thatoy : 

“You astonish me. The man must have impressed you pro- 
foundly. Tell me about him. Tell me all you know.” 

Aristarchus’ interest had been thoroughly roused. His 
question had been put to gratify his own curiosity. Zatthu 
he had for the moment quite forgotten and he did not realize 
how a second listener was eagerly waiting for Marcus’ answer. 

“You know,” Marcus began, “how carefully I watch this 
portion of the country where I am posted. When this Jesus 
came here in the month of Adar, some three Sabbaths before 
the Passover, I saw him one day walking with his brothers in 
the street. I noted that they were strangers and I found out 
who they were and where they lodged. So struck was I by 
his face that several times I passed by the house where they 
were stopping in the hope of seeing him again. This hap- 
pened, and this second time I became still more sure that I 
was looking at no ordinary man.” 

“What was there about him that made you feel so?” 

“His whole expression, but especially his eyes, the ten- 
derest I have ever seen; yes, even more beautifully tender 
than those of Naarah when she smiles upon her babe.” 

“But that would seem to denote a countenance lacking in 
strength.” ° 

“His did not. There was majesty in his look and bearing.” 

“Did you speak to him?” 

“No. There was a dignity about him that discouraged it. 
I only stood and scrutinized him closely, and that he did not 


PART IIT—THE DAWNING LIGHT 111 


resent. He gave me in return a look that was all friendliness ; 
but friendly though it was, I felt that his eyes were seeing into 
my soul.” 

“Were his brothers like him?” 

“No; they seemed of a rougher mould — just like hun- 
dreds of other decent Galilean men.” 

“That, you say, was last Adar. What has he been doing 
since?” 

“So much was I interested in him that I have kept watch 
on his movements — an easy thing for me, you know, with the 
service I can command. Just before Passover he went to 
Jerusalem, and there he acted like one of the Jewish prophets 
of old. With a scourge he drove the money-changers and 
their animals out of the temple and upset their tables. This 
made feeling against him and he came back to Galilee through 
Samaria where he was hospitably received, and in the city of 
Sychar he stopped for two days, a thing that would not make 
the Pharisees of Jerusalem think any more favorably of him, 
for you know they look down on the Samaritans. Going on 
into Galilee, he naturally went first to his own city of Naza- 
reth. But his own townsmen handled him rudely when he 
spoke in their synagogue and so he came to Capernaum. 

‘And is he still here?” 

“Here or in the country round about. He seems to have 
made Capernaum his home.” 

‘“What does he do?” 

“He preaches in the synagogues and talks to the people 
wherever they gather together. Nor does he stop with heal- 
ing their minds; he heals their bodies too.” 

“Have you seen him do this?” 

“Yes. The first Sabbath he was in Capernaum he spoke 
in the synagogue, and when a man with a devil cried out 
against him, he drove the devil out of him; and the same day 
at sunset they brought sick people to him, outside of the city, 
and he healed them all.” 


112 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“You really saw this with your own eyes?” 

“With my own eyes, Aristarchus. But I see you don’t be- 
lieve what I say, so I will tell you no more.” 

“No, no! Not so fast! I doubt, but I don’t deny. I am 
trying to look at it as Socrates would have done. He did not 
set a thing down as impossible because it was unusual. But 
unusual you must admit such things to be.” 

“Altogether so. Yet what religion is there that does not 
claim to have wrought them? Not that of your country or 
of mine.” 

“True. But to claim is not to prove. Let us leave such 
questions, though. Socrates and Plato could not settle them. 
You and I shall not. I want to know more of this Jesus of 
Nazareth. You say his brothers were like the men we see 
every day. How about his father and mother? Do you know 
anything about them?” 

“Very little. They were humble toilers, I believe. I am 
told that the father was a carpenter and Jesus worked with 
him at this trade.” 

“Hm. A carpenter’s son. And what sort of friends does 
he make? Is it the common people only that flock to him?” 

“Fis friends are of the people — fishermen, and even publi- 
cans. It is the people that follow him about and hang upon 
his words.” 

“Fim, hm, hm. Marcus, you are the queerest Roman patri- 
cian that ever walked the seven-hilled city. At Rome you made 
friends with gladiators and wine-bibbers and married a Jewess 
though your father warned you it would spoil your career. 
And here in this Hebrew country no sooner does a man turn 
up who draws the common herd about him and makes enemies 
of the priests and Pharisees and traders than you extol him 
and take him at his own rating. Next you’ll be throwing your 
sword into the Lake of Galilee and running after him.” 

“You have lived much longer than I have, Aristarchus. 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 1138 


Haven’t you found it unwise to prophesy what any man will 
do or not do?” 

“Of course I was but jesting. But seriously, are you not 
afraid this man will lead the people astray and stir up a 
rebellion?” 

“T cannot associate that face of innocence and gentleness 
with violence. No, he will not cause any uprising.” 

“But if he did? Should you suppress it?” 

“Yes, unless I were a part of it.” 

“What do you mean? You could never be a traitor — you, 
Marcus, the son of the Prefect of Rome!”’ 

“No, I could never be a traitor. I could never draw my 
sword against Rome. I could believe however that a power 
not of this world was arrayed against the mightiest power 
that is in this world.” 

“You talk in riddles.” 

“Dol? Let me tell you a thing that happened in my own 
home while you were away. Perhaps you will understand 
me better then. Yet I doubt if I ought to tell the story. I 
cannot make it mean much if I tell it briefly, and I have 
already talked too long, I fear.” 

“T am not tired. Give me your story and do not 
shorten it.” 


114 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


xX 


‘You inquired after Naarah and the children. ‘There is 
one in my household about whom you did not ask.” 

“Oh, your big ex-gladiator, Hacho. No, I never thought 
of inquiring after such a lusty fellow as him. Surely nothing 
has gone amiss with him.” 

“Yes, strange as it-may seem. He was taken suddenly 
with a creeping palsy that seemed to paralyze one member 
after another. I call it creeping, but it crept so fast that we 
were very soon alarmed. ‘Three days after it fastened itself 
upon him he had to take to his bed. Already his limbs were 
nearly useless. It seemed as if the disease would surely make 
its way to his lungs and heart and the life would end. 

“‘Naarah and I were deeply distressed. If Hacho had been 
of the blood of either of us, I do not think we could have 
cared for him more. You know his character yourself — 
always faithful, always kind, always gentle, always brave. 
No man ever had a better servant. 

“So grieved was Naarah that she stood with the tears in 
her eyes and begged me to do something. 

“ “What can I do?? I said. ‘We have tried every physician 
in the city and they are all helpless.’ 

‘“* “Go and find Jesus. Something tells me that he will cure 
him.’ 

“A wise thought that sprang from a woman’s sympathy. 
Why it had not occurred to me to do this, I do not know. 
I suppose it was because our minds are fettered by experi- 
ence; and experience does not teach us to lock for a miracle 
when our bodies are ailing. But hope sprang up in me as 
soon as Naarah spoke of Jesus. On the instant I started out 
to find him. 

“People that I met near my door told me he had been seen 
just outside of the city and that he had been working won- 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 115 


derful cures there. Eagerly I made my way in the direction 
pointed out. The sun was shining brightly. So soft and 
sweet was the air that it seemed to give peace to the mind. 
All, I felt, would be well. 

“Hurrying on I caught sight of Jesus and those with him 
just as I reached the edge of the city. As usual he was 
attended by a few of the curious as well as by those whom 
he has chosen to follow him. Joy was in my heart. I was 
about to quicken my step and make my plea for Hacho as 
soon as I was near enough to him, when I saw that which 
made me stand still. A man made his way toward Jesus. 
That he was a leper was plain, for every one shrank away 
from him. Boldly however he went forward because of the 
faith that was in him. He knelt at the feet of Jesus and I 
was not too far away to hear him cry out in a voice that 
filled me with pity, so earnest, so agonizing were its tones, 

* ‘Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst make me clean.’ 

“And through the still air, while a hush as of death was 
upon all those that stood around, I heard the clear, calm 
words of Jesus, 

*¢*T will; be thou clean.’ 

“He stretched out his hand. The healing came. It came 
in an instant, for the man rose at once and lifted his hands 
toward heaven to give thanks to God. But as if the thing 
he had done was nothing, Jesus started on again and came 
toward me with a calm majestic tread. 

“I did not go to meet him. I stood still. For I was awed. 
I was overwhelmed with feelings I know not how to describe. 
Who was this Jesus and whence had he this strange power? 
Surely, from no one but Jehovah. The voice that created 
heaven and earth was speaking through this lofty man. I 
must obey it. Yes, I, raised to authority by Rome, must bow 
to an authority far mightier than that of Rome. So as 
Jesus drew near to me I felt myself to be but as a child. 

“Tt was not till he was close to me that I spoke. Then I 


116 ZATTHU-—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


looked into his eyes — ah! how tender and mild they were! — 
and cried, 

“ “Lord, my servant lieth at home sick of the palsy, griev- 
ously tormented.’ 

“With a wonderful look of compassion, he answered at 
once, 

**T will come and heal him.” . 

“And then it was that my sense of the man’s holiness grew 
overpowering, bewildering. I, a man who ordered others, was 
in the presence of one who was fit to rule the whole world by 
the power that was given him from above. And so I answered, 
scarce knowing what I said, 

‘TY am not worthy that thou shouldest come under my 
roof; but speak the word only, and my servant shall be 
healed. For I am a man under authority, having soldiers 
under me; and I say to this man, Go, and he goeth; and to 
another, Come, and he cometh; and to my servant, Do this, 
and he doeth it.’ 

“A look that might be of wonderment came into his eyes 
as I said these words, and he turned to those about him 
and said, 

“ “Verily I say unto you, I have not found so great faith, 
no, not in Israel.’ 

“Then looking at me, he added, ‘Go thy way; and as thou 
hast believed, so be it done unto thee.’ 

‘Then he went on his way, while I stood still as if a spell 
was upon me till he and his followers had all passed by. For 
some moments I stood watching them, the errand that had 
brought me there altogether forgotten. I could only think 
of that calm and holy presence, the wondrous compassion of 
the eyes that had looked into mine, the effortless assertion 
of a superhuman power. 

“But soon they turned into a side street and were lost to 
view, and then I came to myself and thought of Hacho. Was 
he really healed? Surely he was. I could not doubt, for had 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT Bid?) 


not Jesus said it should be done unto me even as I had be- 
lieved? I should find him well — him, Hacho, whom I had 
left with the breath of life scarcely in him. 

“So I started home and in my eagerness to see with my 
own eyes this miracle of healing that I knew had been accom- 
plished, I broke into a run. I see you smile, but it was even 
so. I, Marcus, the centurion, with the weight of Rome’s dig- 
nity upon my shoulders, ran through the streets of Caperna- 
um like a boy. 

“And it had all happened exactly as I foresaw. Naa 
was watching for me. As I drew near the house she stood in 
the doorway with the tears in her eyes; but this time they 
were tears of joy and her face was all sunshine. For there 
was Hacho standing beside her, as well and sound as when 
he used to stand in the arena at Rome. He bounded out into 
the street before I reached the house, and the tears were in 
his eyes too as he took my hand, and in spite of my holding it 
back he carried it to his lips. 

“You gave me my freedom,’ he said with more reverence 
than any other man had ever shown me, ‘and now you have 
given me my life. And alas, I can only serve you as I have 
always done.’ 

“That is enough, Hacho,’ I said, ‘and more than enough. 
Happy is the master who commands service such as yours.’ 

“Then I went into the house and learned that the cure 
came in an instant and at what must have been the very time 
when I was asking Jesus to heal him without coming under 
my roof. The word that had been spoken was enough. The 
disease was silently bidden to depart and it vanished even as 
an evil dream goes when one wakes from a troubled sleep. 

““And now one question before I go. Those ruffians who 
attacked you— was there among them a man of distin- 
guished presence and bearing who would not seem properly 
to belong to the robber class?” 

“T noted no such man. Why do you ask?” 


118 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“Because one Zatthu, a Pharisee of Jerusalem, who had 
been stirrmg up trouble there, escaped from prison at 
Cxsarea a while ago and no one knows what has become of 
him. Some believe he has joined a gang of robbers; so I 
thought it worth while to inquire if you observed a man of 
his stamp in the crew that assaulted you. I am myself of 
the opinion that he has gone back to Jerusalem and is in 
hiding there.” 

“Was it there that he was first arrested and made 
prisoner?” 

“Yes; a little while before the Passover,” 

“Would he not then fear to return where he must be well 
known?” 

“Yes, if he were to continue his troublesome activity and 
show himself in public. But plotting seems to be his occupa- 
tion, and he could plot in secret there with those who are 
eager for Rome’s overthrow.”’ 

“You speak as if they might possibly accomplish it.” 

“No, they could never accomplish it. Rome is too strong 
for them. But they are fierce zealots and some day there 
may be a mighty uprising here. The Jews are restless under 
our rule and sedition makers like Zatthu need to be watched. 
But farewell; and may you soon be on your feet again.” 

“Farewell, but do not wait for that to come about. Come 
soon.” 


PART I1—THE DAWNING LIGHT TiS 


XI 

“In my heart, though, I am not so eager to have him come 
again right away,” said Aristarchus as Zatthu came forth 
from his place of concealment after Marcus had gone. “My 
friend the centurion asked me some questions I had to dodge 
as best I could. But I evaded them and you see he had no 
suspicion that you are in Capernaum.” 

“Tt grieved me that you had to evade. He is your friend, 
and with a friend one does not like to be anything but frank.” 

“We shall be friends through everything. Never fear. 
And what do you think of him?” 

“He is plainly upright and kind. But I cannot respect his 
judgment and clear-sightedness as you do. JHe is too 
credulous.” 

‘Because he sees virtue in the man Jesus?” 

“Because, first of all, he seems to have failed to under- 
stand that fanatical John the Baptist. A wretched impostor 
he is. I went out from Jerusalem to hear him myself. A 
slanderous talker I found him to be; a man who wins favor 
with the common people by abusing those who are their 
natural leaders.” 

“You may be right. All that I have heard about him has 
made me believe him a man of sincerity and courage.” 

“Your judgment is too generous. Such men do only harm. 
They turn the people to folly and unsettle their minds. And 
this Jesus of Nazareth is plainly a man of just that sort.” 

“Do you feel sure of that without having ever seen him?” 

“Perfectly sure. All that your friend Marcus said con- 
firmed me in my opinion. And he himself seems to look at 
men through his sympathy and to take them at their own 
estimate of themselves.” 

“You would be far from saying that if you knew him well. 


120 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


He is the keenest reader of men I have ever been acquainted 
with.” 

“I find it hard to believe it. He shows mere weakness in so 
bowing down to this Jesus, this son of a carpenter. Why, 
he speaks of him as if he were a god!” 

‘Perhaps he is.” 

“What? Are you so credulous too?” 

“Not credulous; only willing, like our Socrates, to keep 
the mind open to what is new and strange.” 

“Marcus the centurion I call truly credulous. He believes 
what his impulses and emotions tell him to believe. That cure 
of his servant was certainly imagined. The disease left the 
man suddenly as diseases often do and it was thought a 
miracle.” 

“He says he has seen Jesus perform many acts of healing 
and the people are all believing in him in consequence.” 

“That is what distresses me. The people are so easily won 
over by false teachers. They went in crowds after John the 
Baptist. Now they are following this son of a carpenter 
because they think he can cure their diseases. It makes me 
unhappy. How can they be made to follow their true leaders 
against Rome when they listen to the voices of vulgar 
fanatics?” 

“I do not wonder at your distress of mind. It would be 
hard indeed if your plans should be upset by a false prophet 
who led the people astray. But do not let yourself be down- 
hearted till you have seen this man yourself and formed your 
own opinion of him.” 

“That I must do, and I must do it quickly. It would be 
dangerous to linger long in Capernaum with such a man as 
this centurion on the lookout for me, even if he does think I 
am now at Jerusalem.” 

“As I have told you before, I do not think you need hurry 
away. Bewary; that is all.” 

“Be wary! Advice, alas, that is only too good and sound. 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 121 


The man who would free his country from a hated rule must 
always be wary till the day of open conflict comes. What 
escapes I shall have, what pursuers I shall need to throw off, 
what hiding places I shall seek, how long I shall be hunted 
and how many times betrayed, no one can say. But the 
loyalty of your own friendship I shall never doubt. Once 
more from my heart I thank you for it. Still, I must not 
remain here and by chance bring you and myself also into 
trouble. I will seek out the leaders of my people here and 
confer with them. I will try to find this man Jesus and judge 
him by what I hear him say and see him do. Then I must go 
from place to place in Galilee and make my people ready for 
the swelling of Jordan.” 

‘‘And when the river rises, may it sweep your enemies 
away 1” 


122. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


XIT 


Zatthu left his host’s bedside to seek acquaintance among 
his own people in the city. First, however, he went to the 
house where Kelita and Shobek were lodging. From them 
he would fain get knowledge of this strange man who seemed 
to have risen like a threatening cloud on the horizon of his 
own activity. 

He found his two friends. Yes, they had heard of Jesus. 
They had indeed heard much about him. He was in the 
mouths of all Capernaum. 

‘‘Why then did you not speak of him this morning?” was 
Zatthu’s inquiry. 

“My one thought was for your safety,” answered Kelita. 
“Moreover, I think but poorly of him. His day will soon 
pass.” 

“Have you seen him?” 

“Just once. Shobek and I met him as he and a crowd of 
his followers were entering the city. He had been to some 
neighboring town and was coming back to his home here. 
A throng gathered about him as soon as he was seen ap- 
proaching. If he had been a king he couldn’t have caused 
more clamor and excitement. But give no thought to him. 
He hasn’t it in him to head a great movement or to be a 
leader.” 

‘“‘Why do you think so?” 

“He has no power. I cannot think of him as like Moses, 
or Joshua, or Saul. He is too mild.” 

“‘HYe has power to make the people flock to him.” 

“Yes, like sheep; the multitudes who are blind and easily 
led.” 

‘They think he heals them of their diseases.” 

“They will soon find out they were mistaken and fall away 
from him.” 


bf 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 123 


“Perhaps they are not mistaken,” interposed Shobek. 

“Do you believe in him?” asked Zatthu searchingly. 

“T believe him to be great and good, and no impostor.” 

“You would leave me for him — for him, the son of a car- 
penter?” 

“To not say it! Do not think it! I would die for you and 
the cause.” 

“But if you had to choose between him and me?” 

“That could never be. He is not like you. He is trying to 
make the people live better lives. He would never lead them 
to rise against Rome.” 

“But he is doing great mischief. He is drawing to himself 
the very people I must win to make the cause succeed. Upon 
you, Shobek, I fear he has cast a spell. But I must go 
among the Pharisees and the elders of the synagogue and 
learn what they think of this man who would make us believe 
he wields the rod of Moses.” 

Exactly this Zatthu now began to do, though he proceeded 
warily; for Rome’s spies were everywhere and he had to 
remember that at Jerusalem some of his own countrymen had 
been corrupted by Roman gold. So it was only to a few 
Hebrews of established repute and character that he reveale 
his identity. | 

The house to which he went first was that of Baruch, a 
synagogue elder and a partner in a thriving business. The 
business was indeed the same as that conducted by Zatthu’s 
brother; and the two houses had long had an intimate asso- 
ciation. But Baruch had, like Zatthu, a brother who took 
upon himself all commercial dealings; and Baruch was thus 
left free to devote most of his time to scholarly pursuits to 
which his somewhat indolent nature had always been inclined. 
But Zatthu’s name strongly stirred him and his greeting was 
most hearty. 

“Y am delighted to see you,” he exclaimed, when Zatthu 
was ushered into his presence. ‘This is an honor indeed. If 


124 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


in any way I can serve you, you have only to let me know. 
Your brother has sent me word that you are to have whatever 
you may need in the way of money.” 

“Money. Money,” said Zatthu slowly. “I have deeper 
needs than money.” 

“And those too I would gladly satisfy,” said Baruch, more 
eagerly than thoughtfully or prudently. 

“Then you believe in the cause to which I am giving all 
my heart and life?” 

Baruch did not answer at once. Zatthu measured him 
while he sat silent and slightly embarrassed. He was a 
middle-aged man, with a kindly eye and features that be- 
tokened a reflective rather than a resolute mind. His face 
indeed bore the stamp of his sedentary ways. “He is well 
named Baruch and not Barak,” thought Zatthu. “He may 
be ‘blessed,’ but he will never be as a ‘thunder-bolt’? to the 
enemies of Israel.” 

“Yes, surely I believe in the cause,” presently came Ba- 
ruch’s answer. ‘‘Every true patriot must believe that our 
nation is to be freed from Roman tyranny. But the time? 
The time? The young lion might be gored on the horns of 
the wild ox. He must have his growth to make all creatures 
fear him.” 

‘And Israel has had two thousand years to grow in.” 

“True. True. But this is a troublous question. My own 
wisdom is not fit to cope with it. Shall I not go and bring 
others whose opinions are weightier than mine?” 

“By all means. But shall I not go with you?” 

“Nothing escapes Rome’s eyes. Better not be seen on the 
streets with me. I shall come back speedily. Meanwhile my 
house is yours.” 

Left to himself Zatthu thought not without amusement 
that Baruch had ill-concealed his real anxiety. Plainly he 
was afraid of being seen in public with a man whom the Ro- 
mans were eager to capture and put to death. But he was 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 125 


too thoroughly used to men and their ways to be perturbed, 
and he had not long to wait. Baruch shortly returned with 
three companions, all of them manifestly men of rank and 
dignity, and one of them of winning and noble presence. 
Hardly thirty, he seemed already to have acquired the weight 
and authority that belongs to matured wisdom and solid 
worth of character. 

“This is my friend Joiada,” said Baruch; “and with him 
are Meremoth and Hariph. They have all been only too glad 
to come and greet Zatthu to whom our whole nation is look- 
ing in these troublous days.” 

“Glad indeed we are,” said Joiada, grasping Zatthu warmly 
by the hand. ‘Unfortunate you have been; but your courage 
is equal to that of the great Maccabees.” 

“And that you will not always be unfortunate, we earnestly 
hope and pray,” added Meremoth, as he and Hariph also 
warmly greeted Zatthu. 

- “But it is more than hopes and prayers that I need,” was 
the instant answer. “I need to find Israel standing as one 
man behind me. Shall I really find it so?” 

“Tet us all be seated and discuss this great question at our 
leisure,” remarked Baruch. “TI will have wine brought and 
its cheer will mellow and ripen our wisdom.” 

All seated themselves and Baruch continued to talk in a 
light vein till the wine was served. Already Zatthu read mild 
disapproval in the minds of these countrymen whose support 
he ardently desired; and his host’s genial chatter was a thin 
disguise of a fact already patent. But Zatthu was never 
daunted by lack of sympathy and never anything but direct 
in his appeals for faith and devotion. ‘Turning to Joiada 
he said, 

“No one of you has answered my question. Will you not 
tell me whether you think I can unite all Israel against 
Rome?” 


“T do not believe you can,” was the firm but quiet answer. 


126 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 
“Why not?” 


‘“Rome’s hand is heavy. Israel will not invite it to smite 
till she does not fear the blow.” 

‘The blow need not be feared.” 

“What will be Israel’s shield?” 

“Jehovah.” 

“Amen,” said Joiada, reverently bowing his head. “TI 
honor your faith. If I had it, I would follow wherever you 
led.” 

“‘Kivery true son of Israel ought to have it. It must come. 
It is the only thing needed to make Jehovah blast our ene- 
mies.” 

“Tt will not come till we have turned from our evil ways. 
We are too proud. We are too corrupt. What we need is 
one to make us humble and lead us into better ways; and the 
leader has come.” 

“Whore” 

“Jesus of Nazareth.” 

“Do you believe in that son of a carpenter?” 

ey do.’’ 

“But he scorns our men of weight and learning and makes 
friends with the common and unclean!” 

“As Jehovah would do perhaps were he here among us.” 

*““But surely he deludes the people.” 

*“No, he only heals their diseases.” 

“Do you really believe he does?” 

**T know he does, for I have seen him.” 

“The Pharisees at Jerusalem spurned him.” 

“Not all. My cousin Nicodemus honored and revered him.” 

“Is Nicodemus the Pharisee your cousin?” 

“He is. Do you know him?” 

“Not intimately; well enough to admire him. He is sound 
of judgment, honest and upright.” 

“Did he give you support?” 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 127 


“Not actively. I am sure he was not hostile to my pur- 
pose.” 

“Y am convinced he would not now approve of it. He 
thinks as I do, that our faith is to be increased not by raising 
the standard of revolt, but by following a man of blameless 
life hke Jesus of Nazareth.” 

Not very much more was said. Joiada’s words made a 
deep impression upon Zatthu. His mood had become reflec- 
tive. His burning faith had lost a little of its glow. A few 
further inquiries he made of Joiada in order to find how posi- 
tive and direct was his knowledge of the cures that Jesus had 
wrought. ‘To every question Joiada answered that he had 
seen with his own eyes and that he knew he had not been mis- 
taken or deceived. His plain, unequivocal statements seemed 
to create a subdued and sober mood in all who were present, 
and after a short time the gathering dispersed. When Zatthu 
found himself alone with Baruch he availed himself of the 
ready proffer of financal aid; for he could not but reflect that 
the future was uncertain and might bring him into straits 
that money would relieve. Then, well supplied with gold and 
silver, he wended his way, by no means eagerly or exultantly, 
to the mansion of his host. 


‘128 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


, xm 


With the slow tread of one lost in meditation, Zatthu en- 
tered the house so generously opened to him. Passing into 
the atrium he saw Thisoa. She was seated by the fountain 
and listening to its splashing waters. Their cooling sound 
made this a favorite resort of hers on the hot summer days. 
Here she was wont to bring a parchment roll and read, atten- 
tively or listlessly as inclination bade. A scroll she had now, 
but it was not engrossing her attention. She was letting it 
rest in her lap and her thoughts were far away. 

Instinctively Zatthu drew near to her. He did so as natu- 
rally as the forest wanderer goes where he sees the light ap- 
pearing through the trees. The laws of spiritual gravitation 
may be made clear in a world less material than this. Here 
men obey without always being conscious that they are 
doing so. 

Thisoa greeted him with a cordial smile, as he seated him- 
self near her. | 

“You look grave,” she said. ‘Will you not tell me what 
is on your mind? Does your sacred cause not find due en- 
couragement ?” 

Zatthu was slow in replying and he looked musingly be- 
fore him, not at Thisoa, as he said, 

_“Would that the great Jehovah, who reads our thoughts 
as an open book, would let us see and know others as He sees 
and knows them.” 

“Surely that would not be well for us. It would make us 
gods, not men.” 

“True, but sometimes it would so help us to be just.” 

“And what mind would you now read and understand?” 

“Have you heard of that strange man, Jesus of Nazareth?” 

“Surely. Who in Capernaum, who I might say in Galilee, 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 129 


has not heard of him? He, more than any one, was talked 
about during the time my father was away.” 

“And what have you heard?” 

“That he healed the sick, the halt and the blind, and that 
the people followed him wherever he went.” 

“And how much of this have you believed?” 

“Tittle. Next to nothing. People are easily deceived. 
The power of Jesus will soon pass. It is you, not he, that is 
to break the yoke that rests upon your nation.” 

“It must be so. The elders here are said to view this man 
with distrust. Yet some there are who believe in him. Some 
have witnessed his cures and say there is no doubt whatever 
that they were really performed.” 

“Again I say, people are easily deceived. Believe in your- 
self. Jesus is but for a day. He will not stand in the way of 
your great mission.” 

“In my heart I feel that to be true. Yet I would not be 
-unjust. That is why I wished that Jehovah might some- 
times pour light into our minds. If he is greater than I, 
gladly would I follow him.” 

“Why not seek him and measure him yourself?” 

“That I must do. But I have to proceed with caution. 
You know I am an outlaw.” 

“True. But no one knows you here but your own elders 
to whom you reveal yourself; and they will never betray 
you. You will easily find opportunity to meet with Jesus 
who is often in Capernaum. When you do so you will find, 
I am sure, that he is not one whom you either have to dread 
or to follow. Dismiss all apprehension from your mind and 
tell me more of your people’s history. Their story is so 
strange and wonderful I find it hard to believe it, and yet it 
bears the stamp of truth.” 

This was a request that Zatthu was only too willing to 
grant. Long and eloquently he talked of his people’s past 
to a rapt and unwearied listener. 


1380 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


XIV 


Justice and reform were never brothers. The reformer is 
and should be the man of one idea. To look on both sides of 
any and every question is not his habit; to look on both sides 
of the cause to which he gives all his mind and all his heart 
is more than can be asked of him. 

And Zatthu had the reformer’s temper. His mind was 
dominated and absorbed by his one great purpose. Yet that 
he was not a bigot has been already shown. Had he been one 
he would never have become Aristarchus’ guest, or conceived 
so reverent a regard for his wife and daughter. The fiery 
and unhallowed zeal which justifies every means that can 
accomplish the wished-for end was indeed foreign to Zatthu’s 
nature. His character was natively a noble one. It had 
been elevated and broadened by the grand and austere figures 
that illumined his people’s history. Moses’ sublime self- 
abnegation, Samuel’s unwavering obedience to God’s voice 
and David’s ready forgiveness of Saul’s blind rage and 
jealousy, had deeply impressed his mind. 

Hence it was that he could not countenance Kelita’s sum- 
mary and vindictive methods. Hence it was that Shobek’s 
deep-seated kindliness made a strong appeal to him. And 
hence it was that he feared to judge harshly of the very 
man he instinctively turned against and condemned. Jesus 
of Nazareth was ever in his thoughts. The devotion caused 
by this new leader naturally roused his jealousy, for Zatthu 
was very human. When he overheard Marcus tell his strange 
tale of healing, he could not help setting down the man who 
was thought to have wrought the miracle as an imposter. 
But this mood of resentment had, as we have seen, been suc- 
ceeded by a humbler one. He had been wholly sincere in 
telling Thisoa that he was ready to follow and not to lead if 
that was Jehovah’s will. What he wanted was the truth. 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 131 


If he could really find it, he could humble himself even as 
David did when he bowed his sinful will to that of God who 
rebuked him by taking away his son. 

But how to find the truth? It was in search of it that he 
went forth the morning after his conversation with Thisoa 
by the plashing waters of the atrium. He would see and 
talk with Jesus if he could. At any rate he would learn about 
him from every one who could give him trustworthy informa- 
tion. 

Naturally however he thought of the Pharisees and the 
synagogue elders of the city as those on whose opinions he 
could best rely. It was with such that he had had converse 
on the day before. If he had found irresolution instead of 
stalwart courage, timidity instead of faith, and credulity in- 
stead of penetration in the one man, Joiada, whose strength 
of mind had most impressed him, this was nothing more than 
he must be prepared for. It was the part of the man of faith 
to make his own illumination scatter the clouds of doubt. 

He did not now succeed in finding Jesus himself. Jesus, 
as he learned regretfully, was somewhere in the neighboring 
country, teaching and healing as was his wont. It was from 
a common toiler whom he accosted in the street that he 
learned this. The man had met him while coming from his 
little farm to sell figs in the city. The rustic seemed intelli- 
gent. Zatthu thought it worth while to question him. 

“Have you ever listened to this man Jesus?” he inquired. 

“Yes; and I would gladly listen again.” 

“Why so?” 

“Fis words are good. ‘They sounded to me as if our great 
Jehovah had put them into his mouth.” 

‘And have you seen him heal those that were ailing? They 
say he does this.” 

‘They say truly. My neighbor Uel has had the palsy for 
seven years. Jesus touched him and at once he became well 


182 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


and sound. And he cured my sister Deborah of a fever by 
laying hands upon her.” 

“These cures you have seen with your own eyes?” 

“With my own eyes.” 

‘“Have you seen a leper cleansed?” 

“No, but I am sure he could do it.” 

Zatthu turned and went upon his way. Was not this last - 
remark significant? he thought. Did it not even go far to 
explain the belief of Joiada in the cures of Jesus? People, he 
reflected, believe what they wish to believe — not realizing 
that he himself was illustrating this very truth. This farmer 
he had talked with had been won by Jesus’ manner of speech 
and had come to believe in him blindly. Had not Joiada done 
the same? He was beginning to think so in spite of the fact 
that Joiada had the day previous impressed him as a man of 
discerning and independent mind. 

Thus ready to be confirmed in what he wanted to believe, 
he found his way to the house of a synagogue elder whom he 
knew to be expecting him. Baruch had advised him by all 
means to confer with Rehum, a man of great weight and 
influence in the synagogue. To make a meeting possible 
Baruch had promised to go to him and ask him to remain at 
home this morning. 

Positive indeed Zatthu instantly saw his character to be. 
Rehum was a man of aggressive and dominating personality. 
Large of stature, erect, well formed, he carried himself among 
men as a mastiff goes among dogs too small to be worthy of 
serious notice. Failure to agree with him caused him sur- 
prise; opposition roused his resentment. Yet his face showed 
cunning as well as strength. The keen bright eye was always 
searching others as if to find weakness of which it could take 
advantage. 

So thoroughly virile was the man’s presence that Zatthu 
felt as if he had received a challenge the moment he entered 
the house and Rehum stood before him. His doubting and 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 133 


reflective mood, already on the way to changing, now van- 
ished almost as quickly as a breath of vapor on a wintry 
morning. Here was an Israelite to be conquered and sub- 
dued. This will that clearly warred for self must be made to 
war for Jehovah. The meeting of the two men brought con- 
flict as inevitably as the meeting of two skilled swordsmen 
fighting on opposing sides. 

“Welcome,” exclaimed Rehum, “right welcome is Zatthu 
to this humble abode. The eagle whose wing is broken may 
well hide from the hunter in the dove’s house.” 

Zatthu could have smiled at the mock humility of this 
speech had not the implied taunt nettled him. Meeting 
steadily the scrutinizing gaze that was fixed upon him, he 
replied, 

“And what of the hunter who faces the angry lion weapon- 
less?” 

“A tree perhaps gives safety.” 

“No, Jehovah.” 

So solemnly were these words uttered that Rehum could 
but bow his head. As he lifted it the look he gave his visitor 
showed more of curiosity than of arrogance. It was an 
unwonted experience for him to be forced into showing respect 
for another’s speech. What manner of man was this who had 
so quickly put him half in the wrong? Motioning Zatthu to 
a seat with more of respect than his manner often showed, 
he said courteously, 

“Jehovah would indeed seem to have protected you. The 
story of your escape from prison I have heard. It was won- 
derful.” 4, 

“If we do Jehovah’s will, we may expect wonders.” 

“And you are doing it?” came the query with a return of 
the native arrogance. 

“ey amie 

“Then will Jehovah surely give you success.” 

“Not while men like you stand aside and doubt. Not even 


1384 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


Moses could enter the promised land on account of the 
people’s rebelliousness and lack of faith.” 

“Moses became Israel’s leader after he had seen the burn- 
ing bush. Have you seen one?” 

‘“No, nor did David see one ere he faced Goliath. Yet was 
David called to destroy Israel’s enemy. So am I.” 

“You are quite sure?” 

The moment Rehum put this question Zatthu felt that he 
had triumphed. This man whose wont it was to browbeat 
was for the moment not aggressive. He was like one who in 
a sword bout parries instead of thrusts. To be sure there 
was irony in his query. Still, it opened the way for an attack. 
The attack was vigorously made. 

“Yes, I am sure,” replied Zatthu with flashing eye and 
voice not loud but charged with feeling. ‘My call is that of 
David. It comes from the God of our nation. He it is that 
has made me see Israel lie bleeding at the feet of Rome. He 
it is that has bade me count her cruel wounds and mourn for 
her vanished glory and her lost dominion. He it is that has 
bade me put courage in her heart and raise her to her feet. 
And the faith I have, the unshakable faith that Jehovah Him- 
self will smite the Romans as He smote the Egyptians long 
ago —- whence comes it? It comes only from Jehovah. He 
has planted this conviction in my heart as surely as He made 
Deborah know that the Canaanites would flee before the son 
of Abinoam. Israel has only to rise and her enemies will be 
scattered. And they who work this great deliverance will be 
of the Lord’s chosen ones. To them will He give honor and 
a name that Israel will cherish from generation to genera- 
TOD, 

Zatthu had triumphed. He had struck the right chord. 
Rehum was none the less a patriot because he was overbear- 
ing. His hatred of Rome was fanatical. To see this alien 
power overthrown was his ardent longing. It was not indeed 
a wholly unselfish one. He was exceedingly ambitious. All 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 185 


his life he had coveted high station and renown. And here 
was a man who might give him his desire. As Zatthu spoke 
he was impressed by his power. He could not afford to have 
him anything but a friend. Hardly had he concluded when 
Rehum said, deliberately but with unmistakable sincerity, 

“T truly believe that you have been called by Jehovah. 
You are to restore Israel to greatness. I will stand by your 
side when the time is ripe. Every Hebrew patriot must do 
the same.” 

“They must. They must. When the hour comes how can 
they hold aloof? And yet only yesterday I found lukewarm- 
ness, I might almost say condemnation, right here in Ca- 
pernaum.” 

“Who could have been so faint-hearted, so unloyal?” 

“Baruch, Meremoth, Hariph, and above all Joiada.” 

“And why should Joiada, a man by no means weak or fal- 
tering, be so perverse?” 

“He believes we are down-trodden because of our sins. He 
looks to Jesus, the carpenter’s son, to turn us to repentance 
and upbuild our nation.” 

A frown came over Rehum’s face. 

“Jesus the carpenter’s son! Jesus of Nazareth!’ he ex- 
claimed in tones full of scorn and bitterness. “Is it possible 
that Joiada is misled by that impostor? He is deceiving the 
ignorant unwashed multitudes, but I should not have expected 
aman of Joiada’s clear strong mind to be thus deluded. I am 
indeed surprised. I must see him and convince him of his 
error.” 

“Then you believe Jesus is a man himself deluded and 
deluding others?” 

“Deluding? Yes, basely and wickedly deluding all who 
will listen to him. But deluded? No! He is scheming to 
exalt himself by profaning what is sacred. He is false. He 
is a menace to our nation.” 

“Pray give me your grounds for thinking so.” 


186 ZATTHU-—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“Say rather for knowing so; for there is not the smallest 
doubt in my mind about it. Yes, I will do so gladly. If you 
have any feeling whatever that there is aught in this deceiver 
to commend or to admire, I would fain destroy it utterly.” 

Thereupon Rehum launched into a full and scathing review 
of what Jesus had said and done in and about Capernaum. 
Into this story was poured the high-caste Hebrew’s scorn of 
the lowly man who was not imbued with the spirit of ancient 
usage and tradition. ~The tradition was sacred. Redemp- 
tion could only come through absolute obedience to its be- 
hests. To violate it was to sin against Jehovah. And this 
Jesus whom the people were running after held it as naught. 
How quickly and how terribly were those punished who 
treated lightly the Ark of the Covenant! Time had passed. 
The Ark and the Temple of Solomon that held it had vanished 
from the earth. But the spirit of Jehovah which made the 
Ark a holy thing was in the Law that Jehovah himself had 
spoken to His chosen people. This law the man of Nazareth 
held in contempt. In thus dealing with it he was as truly 
guilty of profanation as those who had wantonly handled the 
Ark in the days of old. Such sacrilege was sure to be pun- 
ished. All those who were led astray by this man’s teachings 
would sometime atone for their folly. 

Long was the story. Rehum had an intimate knowledge 
of the doings of Jesus. He knew what places he visited; 
what company he kept; what discourses he held; and what 
cures and miracles he was believed to have performed. His 
life as it was then being lived was minutely scrutinized; and 
a false coloring was given to every word he uttered and every 
deed he did. 

But to Zatthu the coloring seemed true. He listened with 
rapt attention and with an ever growing conviction that he 
was finding the true explanation of this strange and puzzling 
career. ‘The man of Nazareth could be nothing but an im- 
postor. To think of him as a leader who could heal and lift 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 137 


up the nation was mere folly. Joiada and all who thought 
with him would some day find this out to their great sorrow. 
They were misguided men, to be pitied because they were so 
blind. 

The long interview ended, Zatthu and Rehum parted as 
friends. Each felt that he had an ally and a helper in the 
other, though the help that Zatthu proffered was for his 
people solely, while Rehum mingled thoughts of self-advance- 
ment with patriotic hopes and aspirations. 


1388 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


XV 


From Rehum Zatthu went directly to the house of his host. 
Reaching and entering it he proceeded to the atrium as he 
had done on the day before. Hardly did he expect to see 
Thisoa again sitting there; yet he was disappointed not to 
find her. There were things that he greatly wished to say to 
her. ‘The conversation they had had was to be resumed. Be- 
fore, she had been positive, he doubtful. Now, it would be 
the other way. He, the man, would be positive, aggressively 
so, as a man should be. She, the woman, could now but 
acquiesce in his own deep-rooted and unshakable convictions. 

He seated himself by the fountain, but he was hardly con- 
scious of the tinkling of its waters. His mind was on the 
interview with Rehum and on his great purpose which that 
interview had so mightily strengthened. But even while he 
was thinking over what had passed between himself and the 
zealous Hebrew elder, Thisoa appeared. Seeing Zatthu, she 
went to him at once. She opened her mouth to speak, and 
then stopped. Such a look of satisfaction and self-confidence 
did Zatthu give her that she could not but contrast his man- 
ner and bearing with that she had noted the day before. He 
did not himself speak; and after a moment of keen observa- 
tion she said, 

“You are no longer in doubt. Your mind is made up. I 
can see that plainly. Pray tell me your thought, then, if it 
is not too sacred to be revealed.” 

“I was wishing to tell it to you. I was wishing to take up 
again what was said between us yesterday about the man 
Jesus. You were right. He is but for a day. He is un- 
worthy to lead our nation.” 

“I am so rejoiced that you can be sure of this and see your 
own way clearly. But are you willing to tell me what has 
brought you to think thus?” 





PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 139 


“The things seen and heard by one of our Pharisees here. 
He is a man thoroughly true to our sacred laws and he is 
shocked and outraged by the things that Jesus does.” 

‘“‘What manner of things?” 

“He mingles freely with publicans and sinners. He even 
sits down and eats with them.” 

“Ts that a bad thing to do?” 

‘How can you ask?” said Zatthu, looking at her in aston- 
ishment. ‘‘And yet,” he quickly added, “I forgot. You are 
not one of us. You do not know how rigid are the laws given 
us by Moses. ‘They were made known to him by Jehovah 
Himself who chose us to be His own people and who wished 
to keep us pure from all contamination with unclean and 
idolatrous tribes. It is from ourselves that our redemption 
and deliverance must come. The man who is to raise us up 
and lead us to new greatness must not only be a Hebrew of 
the Hebrews; he must gather about him only those of his 
own race. To parley with publicans and sinners, to make 
friends with them, eat with them and use them to win power, 
is nothing less than to be a traitor to Judea.” 

“T suppose you are right. But if these men would lift the 
sword against Rome, why not win them and use them?” 

“Because they could not be true patriots. They are not of 
God’s chosen ones. ‘They would betray us in the hour of 
need.” 

*‘And Jesus makes friends with them as readily as with his 
own people?” 

“Even more readily. He seems even to prefer to sit at 
table with them and thus cast a slight upon the Pharisees 
who ought to be his chosen companions.” 

““And some of these men you say are evil?” 

“Yes; men who are careless of themselves, who do all man- 
ner of things forbidden by our laws. They are men whom 
our Pharisees could not touch with their skirts without feel- 


ing that they had been defiled.” 


140 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“May it not be pure kindness that makes Jesus treat them 
as friends? He heals their ailments, they think at least. 
They flock to him out of gratitude. He is too kind-hearted 
to turn them away.” 

“Tf he were a true Hebrew, he would not trample our laws 
under foot by consorting with them and letting them touch 
his person.” 

“Ts he so familiar with them?” 

“T have not yet seen-him myself. I tried to do so, but he 
has not been in Capernaum today. So I can only judge by 
what I hear, and I cannot deny that these common and un- 
clean people who follow him seem to reverence him and feel a 
certain awe in his presence. Yet he sometimes allows a 
strange, yes, a really shocking familiarity.” 

“And you were told instances of this?” 

“Yes; and one, of which I hardly know how to speak. 
It made the Pharisees who witnessed it hot with wrath and I 
shared their indignation when I was told of it. But as I see 
your sympathy makes you palliate these things that so out- 
rage a Hebrew’s sense of what is fit, I must show you how 
this man shocks and offends us. 

‘A few days ago one of our Pharisees feasted him. Into 
the house went some of the common crew who are ever around 
the man. It was an abuse of the generously proffered hospi- 
tality, but the Pharisee was too courteous to object. But 
while they were sitting at table, in came a woman who should 
not have been allowed to enter any house of uprightness. 
While all looked on in amazement, she went straight to Jesus, 
knelt at his feet, which she washed with her tears and then 
wiped with her loose-flowing hair and anointed with a very 
precious ointment. It was such a scandalous scene that some 
of Jesus’ own followers protested; but he rebuked them, let 
the woman do as she would and sent her away with a kindly 
word.” 

With downcast eyes Thisoa listened to this narration which 





PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 141 


was given with no little feeling. It brought no tinge of color 
to her face, but it made her very grave and thoughtful. The 
acquiescence that Zatthu had expected from her was slow in 
coming. Now that he had turned wholly against Jesus, she 
found that a feeling in his favor was unexpectedly arising in 
herself. 

How baseless is the idea that the well rounded character 
has been ripened only by the altruism of today! Epami- 
nondas was as just and unselfish as Washington. The mother 
of the Scipios could not be surpassed in depth and nobleness 
of feeling. It was a woman’s tenderness that saved Moses 
for his mighty destiny, and that compassionate daughter of 
Pharaoh was surely only one of a countless multitude of 
sweet-natured women. ‘To Thisoa the readiness of Jesus to 
make friends with the lowly and to be gracious to an erring 
woman brought no shock and no feeling of condemnation. 
Rather did her large and generous nature respond to these 
proofs of a boundless human sympathy. Every age finds its 
needed leaven in those who rise above its conventions. Thisoa 
was one of these. In her heart she felt a strong desire to see 
and know this man who refused to be cast in the mould of 
Hebrew tradition. At the same time she could do full justice 
to Zatthu’s attitude and could believe a man like him must be 
the deliverer of his nation. The Jews had an unexampled 
pride of race. That was but too apparent. The books they 
profoundly reverenced seemed to justify them in holding 
themselves aloof from all other peoples and believing them- 
selves called to an unparalleled destiny. All this being so, it 
was only one who was of the purest blood and who rigidly 
regarded every established Hebrew tradition that they could 
follow in the path to liberty and great achievement. From 
Jesus they might get moral uplift, and possibly healing, 
though that she still gravely doubted; it was only from 
Zatthu that they could get national salvation. 

Yet was not Zatthu himself doing the very thing he con- 


142 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


demned in Jesus? Repulsed by some of Capernaum’s leading 
Pharisees, he was finding shelter and seeking sympathy under 
her father’s roof. Partly in a spirit of mischief, partly to 
bring him face to face with his own inconsistency, she ended 
the silence at which he had been wondering by a query that 
was fairly startling. 

“But are not you,” she asked, “doing the same violence to 
your sacred traditions that Jesus has been doing? You say 
he is a traitor to Judea because he parleys with publicans 
and sinners, makes friends with them, eats with them and 
uses them to win power. Yet you have become the guest- 
friend of my father and your plans to free Judea you unfold 
to us, who are of those very aliens your people look upon with 
aversion, and from us you seem to hope for sympathy and 
encouragement.” 

“And reasonably so,” exclaimed Zatthu, who had listened 
to these words with a shock of surprise but was ready and 
even eager to defend himself. ‘You may well think me incon- 
sistent, but really Iam not so. I am not making friends with 
publicans, with rough unwashed men, with those who have 
strayed into ways miry and unclean. Should the standard 
of revolt be raised and should such as these array themselves 
beneath it, I should say the great Jehovah had made them 
his instruments and it was not for man with his frail wisdom 
to rebuff them. But I should never seek such allies. I am 
not seeking them. It is only to the men of influence and learn- 
ing, only to the men of unmixed Hebrew blood that I am 
resorting and making known my purpose. And was it not 
through your father’s earnest solicitation that I came here 
under this roof? Has it not been at your own earnest request 
that I have told you of my great ambition to free my coun- 
try? And what a kindly and hearty response I found! What 
sympathy have you not shown! Do not, I pray you, think 
that I am to be likened to this strange and erring son of a 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 143 


carpenter because I count among my friends the inmates of 
this generous and noble household !”’ 

“YT am answered,” said Thisoa smilingly. “I will not think 
of my father and mother, who are of earth’s noblest and best, 
as like the rude and perhaps uncleanly people whom Jesus 
seeks to know and help. And while I cannot help admiring 
him for the kindness of heart he shows in thus befriending the 
needy and the lowly, I think his conduct shows that not to 
him could the Hebrews look for a leader to deliver them from 
Rome. It is a man like you who is to shatter the tyranny 
that binds and crushes you. Yes, and the man is you.” 

“YT humbly hope so. As I have said, I feel that I have heard 
Jehovah calling me to free my country.” 

“You will free it. Of that I feel sure. And when you have 
freed it, how will you rule it and make it great? Will this 
Jesus have no part in building it up and giving it the com- 
manding place among the nations of the world?” 

A frown gathered over Zatthu’s face. : 

“You seem greatly interested in this carpenter’s son,” he 
said, eyeing his questioner searchingly. ‘‘Why is it so?” 

“Because all that you tell of him makes me think him a man 
of a peculiarly noble character, even if I cannot regard him 
as raised up to free Judea.” 

“Ys it noble to make light of sin; to scoff at our sacred 
traditions; to trick and deceive the multitudes; and to use 
strange, unholy powers for his own fame and influence?” 

“Does he use strange, unholy powers?” 

“Yes, even like those of the Egyptian priests who turned 
their rods into serpents, or like those of the Witch of Endor 
who called up Samuel’s spirit at the bidding of King Saul.” 

“Can you give me an instance of this?” 

‘“What he did in the country of the Gadarenes is proof of 
it. For there he made tormenting spirits leave a man they 
were haunting and pass into a herd of swine; whereupon the 
swine rushed down into the Sea of Galilee and were drowned.” 


144 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“How about the man? Was he truly freed from the tor- 
menting spirits?” 

“Of that I have my doubts. I only know that the swine 
were drowned.” 

“But the one thing I should wish to know is, whether the 
man was cured. If he was, I should not call the power that 
cured him an unholy power.” 

“You puzzle me. You seem to esteem this Jesus highly 
and to see good in everything he does; while only yesterday 
you had nothing but condemnation for him.” 

‘You must remember that I am not a Hebrew. In seeking 
the neglected, the unclean and the despised, Jesus offends 
your reverence for the traditions of your nation; but it is in 
doing just this that he commends himself to me. I can under- 
stand how you, a Hebrew, count it a sacred duty to keep 
your race strain pure. If you are Jehovah’s chosen people, 
you must do just this, or He would no longer regard you with 
especial favor. But I am a Greek; and though the Greeks 
have pride of race, I cannot help admiring a man who, like 
Jesus, likes to mingle with the lowly and despised.” 

“Kiven though he makes friends with sinners?” 

“You say he makes friends with them. Just what do you 
mean by that? Does he go about with them and count them 
among his immediate followers?” 

“T could not say that. Ido not really know. But he cer- 
tainly passes over their misdeeds as if they were nothing.” 

“Perhaps in that he is wrong. I am not sure. I want to 
see him, to know of his daily life and doings. He makes me 
think of our Socrates who went about the streets of Athens 
gladly talking with any who would hear him. But I will say 
no more about this strange man who is making friends of the 
poor and the unknown, and enemies of those your men of wis- 
dom and authority revere. Do not for a moment think my 
growing interest in Jesus lessens my belief in your own mis- 
sion. It is you who are to set your country free. I have 





PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 145 


already said it and I say it now again! You are called and 
inspired to do this mighty thing. From the bottom of my 
heart I am thankful that you see it and that all your doubts 
are cleared. Go forth and do it. Your Jehovah will not let 
you fail.” | 

Zatthu was too deeply moved by these words of confidence 
to make any reply. He showed his feeling by a look of grati- 
tude, excused himself and went to his room with a great joy 
in his heart. At no time had he felt more sure that his task 
was a divinely appointed one. The cloud that had seemed to 
gather over his pathway had been dispelled. False leaders 
might arise and have their little day. But it was he, Zatthu, 
that was to bring a new and glorious day to Israel. 


146 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


XVI 


The next day was the Sabbath. Eagerly had Zatthu looked 
forward to it. At the synagogue would then be gathered a 
goodly representation of his people. He would see them and 
measure them. Already practiced in reading the mind of an 
assembly, he could almost surely tell whether here in this 
populous Galilean city there were the seeds that his fiery zeal 
could ripen into a harvest. To be sure, the time for his labors 
was not now. He was an outlaw. In the city was a Roman 
garrison. At the head of it was a centurion peculiarly vigi- 
lant and discerning. But if the spirit of patriotism were 
truly in the hearts of the people, it could be stirred in Jeho- 
vah’s own time. 

It was therefore in a very earnest mood that Zatthu started 
forth to attend the ritual in the synagogue. He was going 
among friends, and not a shadow of apprehension troubled 
his mind. Of the exciting experiences the day was to bring 
he had no forecast. Having allowed himself ample time, he 
strolled in a leisurely manner along the streets. The air was 
still. His mind was as peaceful as the quiet summer morning. 

He had reached the door of the synagogue when he heard 
voices chanting together somewhere in the open. Instead of 
entering he stopped and listened. The voices began to sound 
nearer, and the tramp of feet was heard. In a moment the 
company of singers passed from a cross street into the one on 
which the synagogue was situated and came full into view. 

The words they sang could now be heard distinctly by 
Zatthu and the little group of onlookers that had gathered at 
the door of the synagogue. ‘They were chanting the hundred 
and twenty-second Psalm which so perfectly expresses the 
spirit of joyous worship: 

I was glad when they said unto me 
Let us go into the house of Jehovah. 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 147 


The company was not numerous — some three score men 
and women — but they chanted the solemn words with deep 
feeling, as if they came from their hearts. For a moment 
Zatthu was thrilled by the lofty strains that so nobly voiced 
the spiritual faith of Israel. “Surely,” he thought, “my 
people is Jehovah’s people. No other has ever uttered so 
sublime a note of praise.” But his thought was quickly 
turned from the song to those who were so devoutly render- 
ing it. 

At their head walked a man whom all were plainly recog- 
nizing as their leader. His step was not stately or majestic. 
The homage he commanded was not given for any assumption 
of superiority or any outward show of pride. Altogether 
quiet and modest was his bearing. As he drew near no sign 
of elation could be seen in his pure grave countenance. He 
looked straight before him as he walked along, yet his eyes 
did not seem to be fixed on the things that were within their 
gaze. It was as if they were peering through the curtain of 
earthly substance into what was spiritual and eternal. Zatthu 
gazed at him with ever growing interest as he approached. 
He did not need the whispered comments of those around him 
to tell him that this was Jesus of Nazareth. 

As the company drew near to the synagogue, this man who 
had seemed so unconscious of what was passing around him 
turned and lifted up his hand. Instantly every voice was 
hushed. Only the steady tramp of feet was now heard as the 
throng passed up to the steps of the synagogue. Still gazing 
intently at its leader, Zatthu was surprised and even startled 
to see that those eyes, seemingly so unmindful of what was 
near, were looking directly into his own. They looked appeal- 
ingly and the look was not at once withdrawn. For Jesus 
had stopped as he came opposite to Zatthu, and almost did 
it seem as if he would speak to him. But no words came, 
though Zatthu had a strange feeling that the searching gaze 
directed at him was reading all the secrets of his soul. He 


148 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


could not meet that earnest wistful look. He glanced down- 
ward for a moment and when he lifted his eyes again, Jesus 
had passed on. 

Perturbed by this unexpected meeting, Zatthu found it 
hard to command his thoughts and to give to the company 
that was passing into the synagogue after their leader the 
close survey he had had in mind. Yet he did note them 
cursorily, and in garb, bearing and all outward circumstance 
they were what he expected them to be. No Pharisees, no men 
of bland courtesy and polished speech were among them. Not 
a face that he saw showed the stamp of worldly wisdom or 
intellectual acquisitiveness. These were plain men, plainly or 
even coarsely garbed, roughened by wind and wave, begrimed 
with toil, well used to the supercilious frown and to the blows 
of adverse circumstance. Some faces indeed showed kindliness 
without strength of will and bore witness to the gentle and be- 
nignant influence that was reaching men with generous hearts, 
mothers whose babes were blessed, and maids to whom purity 
spoke in tones they could not fail to understand. For a few 
sweet-faced mothers were in the motley throng, and young 
women also with countenances aglow with hope and joyous- 
ness. But it was on the men that Zatthu’s gaze was fixed. It 
was the men of Juda and Galilee who were to free the country 
if free it was to be. And these men were not the ones to whom 
a great movement of national deliverance should make its first 
appeal. Zatthu noted that there were none among them like 
the men of light and leading in Jerusalem whose minds and 
hearts he had stirred. His conclusions were confirmed. He 
turned and went into the synagogue with the deep conviction 
that Jesus was without the commanding qualities that are 
needed to lift a whole people into greatness. Lacking these, 
he played upon the feelings of the unthinking and built up a 
baseless power that would sometime crumble in a day. Per- 
haps he was more to be pitied than despised, was Zatthu’s 


PART IIT—THE DAWNING LIGHT 149 


thought. And yet he was haunted by that pleading wistful 
look. 

In the synagogue he was not surprised to find that Jesus 
was to conduct the ritual and give the lesson for the day. 
This was so generally expected that the presiding elder could 
not stand in the way of it. Already obnoxious to most of the 
scribes and Pharisees of Capernaum, Jesus had yet such a 
following among the common people that what he wished was 
not easily gainsaid. Nor was Zatthu sorry to see him take 
his place on the platform to read to and instruct the gather- 
ing. The more he was brought forward the better. He would 
show his weaknesses and make it plain that he was no true 
leader for Israel. 

And to Zatthu, as well as to the other Pharisees and to the 
elders there present, Jesus did indeed make his claim to 
leadership seem altogether preposterous. Yet it was by no 
manifestation of weakness that he did this. His offence lay 
rather in his lofty self-assertion. For after reading from 
Isaiah and ending with the words: ‘‘Wherefore do ye spend 
money for that which is not bread? and your labour for that 
which satisfieth not? hearken diligently unto me and eat ye 
that which is good, and let your soul delight itself in fat- 
ness,” he declared that he alone could satisfy the hunger and 
thirst of the soul. Rising to a full consciousness of his Mes- 
siahship he cried: “He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my 
blood, dwelleth in me, andI in him. As the living Father hath 
sent me, and I live by the Father; so he that eateth me even 
he shall live by me. This is that bread which came down from 
heaven: not as your fathers did eat manna, and are dead: 
he that eateth of this bread shall live forever.” * 

Even to some of Jesus’ own disciples this sublime assertion 
of Divine Sonship was so disconcerting that they pronounced 
it “an hard saying,” and “they walked no more with him.” 
To Zatthu it seemed nothing short of blasphemy, and it was 

*See Saint John’s Gospel, VI, 53-66, noting especially verses 59 and 66. 


150 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


in wrath and fierce resentment that he rose to leave the syna- 
gogue as the service came to an end. But as he cast one 
glance about him before turning to the door, he saw that 
which drove every thought but that of instant personal safety 
completely out of his mind. He found himself looking into 
the eyes of the very Roman officer who had sat at Pilate’s side 
when he was questioned and sentenced at Cesarea. And the 
officer recognized him on the instant, as Zatthu clearly saw. 
He must get out of the synagogue at once and hasten from it 
with the utmost speed. 

Fortunately he was close to the door. Having lingered 
outside till Jesus and his followers had passed in, he had found 
the building full and had not pressed to the front. And, for- 
tunately again, the man he must escape from had been in one 
of the very front seats. He had therefore a good chance to 
elude the inevitable pursuit. Quickly he edged his way into 
the open. Then going at once into a side street he turned the 
first corner he came to and started on the run for the house 
of Aristarchus. 

Who the Roman officer was, he did not need to be told. 
This could be no other than Marcus the centurion. By an 
unfortunate chance he had been in Cesarea when Zatthu was 
taken before Pilate. He had noted the captive Hebrew well. 
He remembered him. He would leave no stone unturned to 
find him and deliver him over to the stern unbending Roman 
law. It was with no comfortable thoughts that Zatthu hur- 
ried on his way, running whenever he could do so without 
attracting attention, walking rapidly when people were in 
sight. A Roman soldier was among those whom he passed 
and this was a meeting that did not please him. Quite out of 
breath he reached Aristarchus’ dwelling, which was a good 
mile from the synagogue and in the western quarter of the 
city, and passed inside. 


' 
| 
7 





PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 151 


XVIT 


It was to the room of Aristarchus himself that he directed 
his steps. In the passageway that led to it he encountered 
Thisoa. 

“I must see your father at once,” he said. 

“He is asleep and should not be wakened unless it is a mat- 
ter of importance. But I can see that it is. You are out of 
breath and your manner is grave and urgent. Can you not 
tell me what has happened?” 

“T have been recognized,” he exclaimed. “I am in danger. 
This house can shelter me no longer. I came to tell your 
father so and flee at once to my friends. They will hide me.” 

“No, this is the house that must hide you. It is the one 
place where they would not seek you.” 

“You are mistaken. Close by a Roman soldier noted me 
walking hurriedly. And it was Marcus the centurion who 
recognized me. He is too keen to omit your father’s house 
from the search.” 

“Marcus! Of all men, Marcus! That is unfortunate. 
How is it that he knew your” 

“He sat by Pilate’s side when I was tried in Cesarea.” 

‘*Would he had not been there! He is wonderfully astute, 
but we will baffle him. Come at once with me and I will con- 
ceal you.” 

“No, I must bid your father goodbye and leave your home 
at once.” 

‘And be taken before you have gone a hundred steps. You 
shall not do it. It is here that you must hide. Come in- 
stantly. We are wasting precious time by talking. Marcus 
may have fallen in with that soldier and got upon your 
ETACK.: 


“Your own words show me that I ought not to stay here. 


152 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


This house will not be exempt from search as you thought it 
would. I must see your father at once and then depart.” 

“That you shall not do. My father must not know that 
you are hiding here.” 

‘That would be dishonorable.” 

“Teave that to me. I tell you, you must and shall come 
with me. If you do not, you will be resisting Jehovah’s will. 
He has appointed me to save you— to save you for your 
nation’s glory and redemption.” 

The girl drew herself up proudly as she said this. Her 
manner was imperious; her eyes sparkled with the intensity 
of her feeling. It flashed upon Zatthu that she was even as 
Deborah was when she commanded Barak to fight with Jabin. 
Still, he resisted. Aristarchus had been more than kind to 
him. He would not reward generosity with deceit. But even 
while he hesitated, there came so loud a knock upon the door 
that, far away from it as they were, it was distinctly heard. 

“Do you hear?” said Thisoa in a tone that was now im- 
ploring. ‘That is the knock of Rome. It means death to 
you and ruin for your country if you do not do as I bid you. 
Come with me! Oh, I beg and entreat you to come with me. 
It is your Jehovah who is speaking through me. You must 
not disobey His voice.” 

Zatthu looked for a moment into the girl’s anxious and 
pleading eyes. He looked only for a moment. 

“T believe you,” he said with bowed head. “It is Jehovah’s 
call. I must obey it.” 

Rapidly Thisoa led him to the apartment devoted to her 
own and her mother’s use, in which he had told of his escape 
from prison at Cesarea. Opening the door that led from the 
apartment into the high-walled private garden, she hastily 
conducted him into it, and to her immense satisfaction she 
found that Trinion the gardener was at work there. In a low 
voice she called him. As he hastened to her she said to 
Zatthu, 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 153 


“T am going to leave you in the hands of this faithful ser- 
vant. Do what he bids you and all will be well.” 

To Trinion she said, 

“You know what to do with this guest of ours, Trinion. 
Be sure and act with caution and prudence. The honor of 
my father’s house is to rest on your skill and wisdom for a 
while.” 


Then she hastened into the house again. 


154 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


XVIII 


It was Marcus himself who had knocked at the door of 
Aristarchus. Hastening from the synagogue without know- 
ing what street the man he was in search of had taken, he 
directed his steps toward the dwelling of the Greek merchant 
through an instinct that in critical moments had often guided 
him aright. 

Before long he chanced upon the very soldier who had en- 
countered Zatthu, and what the man said made him sure that 
it was a well grounded suspicion he had formed. 

“It would be just like that generous big-hearted friend of 
mine to shelter this pestiferous fellow,” he thought to himself 
as he walked along. “He was strangely uncommunicative 
when I questioned him about that combat with the robbers. 
He said no such person as I represented Zatthu to be was 
among the men who attacked him. And no doubt he told the 
truth for he is always honest. But the fellow may have turned 
up just in time to help him out of his scrape and then have 
had friendship and hospitality thrust upon him as a reward. 
Yes, that would have been just like Aristarchus.” 

Reaching his friend’s house with his suspicions now thor- 
oughly confirmed by his own keen insight and discernment, he 
had himself taken without ceremony to the Greek’s bedside. 

“So you have no scruples against sheltering Rome’s ene- 
mies,’ he said with a smile as he entered the room. 

“None at all. Why should I in a city where Marcus is in 
command?” was Aristarchus’ equally smiling reply. He had 
just awakened from sleep, but this startling question put his 
mind instantly on the alert. 

“Counting as usual on my friendship and good nature. 
Well, you made no mistake. Iam as sure to be friendly as you 
are sure to be honest. I make no criticism. But I was with 
Pilate when Zatthu was tried by him. I recognized him a half 


PART IITI—THE DAWNING LIGHT 155 


hour since in the synagogue. He has taken refuge here. 
Rome wants him. You must give him up.” 

“T never resist Rome. That you know. If he is here, find 
him and take him away. But I tell you I shall have a sad 
heart when you carry him off.” 

“You admit that he is here?” 

“No. I admit nothing of the kind. You say, he is here. 
I say, if he is here, find him.” 

“You do not really know whether he is here or not?” 

“‘T do not believe that he is here. He went to the synagogue 
from here. If he came back and entered the house, it was 
while I was asleep and I did not know of it.” 

“T believe you; but I am sure he is here and I am going to 
find him.” 

“You must do your duty, but I hope he is not here and that 
you will never find him.” 

Marcus’ smile had vanished. He shook his head sadly as 
he said, 

“Duty bids me do many unpleasant things. To hunt down 
a brave man in the house of a friend is not to my liking; but 
it must be done.” 

Leaving Aristarchus he began his search. The house was 
surrounded by his men. If the fugitive were within he could 
not escape. He could proceed with due deliberation. 

First of all he went to the aged Paches whose post was at 
the main door, and asked him if the Hebrew cuest of the house 
had recently come in. But the man admitted he had been 
asleep and he could not say. The door was not locked. The 
Hebrew had been in the habit of coming in without announc- 
ing himself. He might have done this sometime within the 
last hour. 

Marcus was disappointed. To be sure, he had undertaken 
this hateful task reluctantly. Having undertaken it, he was 
too true to Rome to wish to fail in it. He had hoped to get 
from the door-keeper positive proof that Zatthu was in the 


156 ZATTHU-——A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


house. But though this proof was so far wanting, he began 
to search with unabated confidence. He next sent word to 
Xenodice that he wished to see her. 

He waited for her in the atrium. When she appeared he 
told her why he was there and asked her if she would not tell 
him plainly whether Zatthu was under her roof. 

“T would tell you if I knew, sorry though I should be to do 
so. But I really do not know.” 

“What does your daughter know about it?” 

“My daughter is a little unwell. She has a headache and 
is, I think, asleep.” 

“She has a headache and is asleep,” Marcus repeated 
slowly and with a little suspicion in his mind. “Ts it not quite 
an unusual thing for your daughter to be unwell or to sleep 
in the middle of the day?” 

“T must admit that I cannot remember when either of these 
things happened before.” 

“Has she been asleep long, if I may ask such an imperti- 
nent question?” 

“Not very long. Less than an hour I think.” 

“T should be sorry to disturb her, but I may have to search 
your apartments and hers before long. You would not 
object, I suppose.” 

“Surely not. But I know you will find nothing there.” 

Marcus bowed as he replied, 

“T will search elsewhere first.” 

The house being spacious and having many rooms, Marcus 
posted several men so as to prevent any one from eluding 
observation by dodging in and out and passing from place 
to place. Then he went with two soldiers to the servants’ 
quarters in the rear. These he searched thoroughly but with 
no result. Finding a staircase, he asked where it led. 

“To a storeroom under the roof,’’ was the answer. 

Marcus mounted the stairway. At the top of it was the 
storeroom mentioned. A brief inspection showed that no one 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 157 


was concealed there. The room had a single door connecting 
it with another chamber. He tried the door. It was locked. 

“What is on the other side of that door?” asked Marcus 
of the steward who had come with him up the stairway. 

“A room used by my master’s daughter.” 

“Ts it always locked?” 

“T think so. I am not sure.” 

““Who has the key?” 

“My mistress or her daughter.” 

Marcus descended and continued his search. Having vis- 
ited every part of the house but the rooms occupied by 
Xenodice and Thisoa and found nothing, he sent for Xenodice 
again. 

“T must now look through your own rooms and those of 
your daughter,” he said. 

“You would not be Marcus, if you left anything undone,” 
she answered with a smile. “I will lead the way.” 

First of all the sitting or living room that opened into the 
garden was entered. As a glance made it plain that the 
fugitive was not there, Xenodice opened the door and showed 
the garden. At the further side of it Trinion was busy water- 
ing the flowers. As he heard the door open, he turned, made 
a low bow and resumed his task. He was old and white- 
bearded, but his years had not dulled his love for the plants 
he was caring for. As he passed from one to another he 
would touch each caressingly and say a word of appreciation 
as if talking to a child. Marcus eyed him keenly for two or 
three moments and then turned away. He saw nothing in 
the garden to awaken his suspicion. 

Xenodice’s room he inspected very cursorily. At the door 
of 'Thisoa’s he paused. 

“Ts your daughter still asleep?” he inquired. 

“T will go in and see.” 

“She seems to be,” she reported as she returned a moment 
later. ‘But I will wake her if you wish.” ; 


158 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“You need not do it now if you will give me your word that 
no one is concealed there.” 

Xenodice’s face grew crimson. 

“Surely,” she said, “you do not think my daughter, the 
daughter of your friend Aristarchus, has hidden a man in her 
own bedroom!” 

“T suspect nothing. As a Roman officer I cannot leave this 
house till I have made sure that he is not in it. It grieves me 
to offend you, but duty is a tyrant that disowns courtesy and 
feeling.” 

“Yet you trust my word!’ 

“Because duty tells me it is safe to do so.” 

Xenodice again entered Thisoa’s sleeping room. Very 
shortly she came out and said, 

“T give you my word that my daughter is the only person 
in the room.” | 

“Then I will not enter it, if I can avoid doing so. But is 
there not a room above which she uses as her own?” 

“There is. In the winter when it is cool she goes there to 
read or paint or work with her needle.” 

*“How is it reached?” 

“By a stairway in a small apartment beyond her own sleep- 
ing room.” 

‘And that apartment is entered only through her room?” 

“Only through that.” 

“Then I must go through it, for I have to search that 
chamber up stairs.” 

“Might I not make the search for you?” 

Marcus hestitated for a moment and then said, 

“Your word I would trust implicitly. Still, I should feel 
better satisfied that I had done my whole duty if I made the 
search myself. The most honest eyes might not be the most 
discerning. Please show me the way. I will pass quietly 
through your daughter’s room without disturbing her.” 

Xenodice conducted him through Thisoa’s room into a 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 159 


smaller one in which was a narrow staircase. Marcus went 
up the stairs and found himself in a spacious loft that was 
lighted by one large window and unmistakably furnished for 
a woman’s leisure hours. A small cabinet contained a few 
rolls of manuscript. On an easel was a half-painted picture 
that suggested Artemis snatching Iphigenia from her sacri- 
ficial doom. ‘The figures were well done but a still better evi- 
dence of Thisoa’s artistic skill was given by a nearly com- 
pleted piece of embroidery on a large frame. Here was por- 
trayed with life and spirit a scene which no one could mistake 
who was familiar with Greek myth. It represented blind 
CEdipus led by his two daughters, Antigone and Ismene; and 
the contrast between the resignation of age and the hopeful- 
ness of youth was admirably shown. 

Only for a moment did Marcus’ glance linger on these 
pieces of handiwork. They interested him, but his innate 
delicacy forbade him to give a loose rein to curiosity. He 
was here for a purpose and solely for that. Quickly he satis- 
fied himself that here were no closets in which a man could 
hide, no furniture behind which he could conceal himself. 
There was one door in the room — without doubt the one 
that connected it with the storeroom already searched. He 
tried it. It was locked. 

Going then to the window, he climbed out upon the roof. 
Its slope was so gradual that he easily made his way round 
about it. No one was on it but himself. Passing to the edge, 
he saw his men posted below as he had stationed them and 
became satisfied that the roof could not have been used as a 
means of escape without attracting attention. 

There was nothing to do but to descend the stairway, and 
admit that so far his search had failed. But he thought he 
saw how he might have been foiled. 

“Will you please tell me,” he said, addressing Xenodice 
whom he found awaiting him near the foot of the stairs, “‘who 
has the key to the door of the loft above?” 


160 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“Tt has always, I think, been in my daughter’s keeping.” 

“Then I shall have to ask you to awaken her and tell you 
where it is.” 

Xenodice stepped into Thisoa’s room. In a moment she 
came back and announced that the key had been lost. 

“Ts the storeroom into which the door opens used only by 
the servants of the house?” 

“Oh, no. My daughter and I both have occasion to go to 
it sometimes.” 

“Rather an inconvenient key to lose, then,” commented 
Marcus. “I wonder when it was used last. But no matter. 
As the door above cannot be opened, I find it necessary to 
look on both sides of it at the same time. So I shall have to 
make your daughter’s room a passageway again while I go 
and give instructions to Stilco who is waiting in the corridor.” 

Passing through Thisoa’s room but not glancing at the 
bed to see whether she was really awake or had dropped into 
slumber again, Marcus found Stilco and told him to go again 
by the stairway in the servants’ quarters into the storeroom. 
If he found nothing there, he was to rap thrice on the door 
of the room. He then passed back into the small apartment, 
climbed the narrow stairs once more and waited. Presently 
he heard the triple knock. It seemed well established that the 
fugitive was nowhere in the house. 

Marcus went down the stairway into the little apartment 
where again he found the wife of Aristarchus. He was 
puzzled. Bootless though his search had been, he was by no 
means convinced that the elusive Hebrew was not hidden 
somewhere under that very roof. Thisoa’s headache and the 
lost key both seemed suspicious to him. He wanted to think. 

What is it that makes the body seek support when the 
mind is to be busy? Or is it the mind itself that dominates 
the body and bids it relieve itself of all possible strain in order 
that the brain may be the sole centre of energy? Whatever 
the cause is, a man who would ponder likes to sit. Charged 


PART IIT—THE DAWNING LIGHT 161 


with vitality as Marcus was, powerful as few men are, he 
looked around for a seat as he reached the foot of the stair- 
way. A chair was empty. He took it, merely shaking his 
head as he looked at Xenodice and thus indicating that his 
efforts had failed. 

For a few moments he pondered in silence. Then he sud- 
denly said to Xenodice, 

“Who was that old man I saw in the garden? I can’t re- 
member that I ever set eyes on him before.” 

“His name is Trinion. His care is the small garden you 
saw and the larger one in the rear of the house.” 

“Flas he been with you long?” 

“Oh, yes, ten years at least.” 

**He seemed to be a quaint character. May I see him?” 

“Assuredly. I will send for him.” 

Marcus and Xenodice went now to the living room. Trin- 
ion was still in the little garden and he came in at once at 
Xenodice’s summons. He was past seventy, but his eye was 
bright and his mind vigorous. To Marcus’s questions he gave 
ready and sometimes amusing answers; but upon the where- 
abouts of the fugitive he could shed no light. 

“You are not a magician, I suppose, and you cannot hide a 
man behind a rose bush?” asked Marcus, half jestingly. 

“Not if he were as big as you are,” was the quick reply. 

“But suppose he was very small?” There was a twinkle in 
the old man’s eye as he answered, 

“Then I could do it if those that hunted him were blind.” 

Marcus laughed as he said, 

“You can go, Trinion. You are a real gardener and not a 
runaway in disguise, and that was what I wanted to see.” 

Then turning to Xenodice, he added, 

“T shall have to go into the servants’ quarters again and 
inspect every one there. And I fear I must ask you to accom- 
pany me and see that all your household is brought under 
survey.” 


162 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


Xenodice went with Marcus. Every servant but Trinion 
was produced and closely viewed, but no one of them was 
other than a genuine retainer of the house. 

“T looked at them all sharply the first time,” said Marcus 
as he finished his survey, but I thought it well to examine them 
once more in your presence and make absolutely sure that 
no one of them was the man I am looking for, masking as a 
servant. It only remains for me to thank you with all my 
heart for your patience and your generous assistance — an 
assistance which I can well understand you did not enjoy 
giving — and to give up the search. I am now going to Aris- 
tarchus to acknowledge my defeat.” 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 163 


XIX 


To Aristarchus Marcus went, while Xenodice hastened at 
once to her daughter’s room. 

“Has your headache left you, Thisoa?” she asked as she 
entered with a very light step. 

“Come close to me, mother, and I will tell you,’’ was the 
low reply. 

Xenodice went to the bedside and seated herself on the 
edge of the bed. Thisoa drew her mother down to her and 
whispered in her ear, 

“Has Marcus gone?” 

“Yes. That is, he is now with your father.” 

“You are sure he is not within hearing?” 

“Quite sure.” 

“And none of the soldiers are lurking where they could 
hear?” : 

‘They have all left the house.” 

‘Then my headache is gone.” 

Startled at this curious communication, Xenodice sat up- 
right, looked at Thisoa intently and said, 

“What do you mean, child? What strange thing have you 
been doing?” 

“T have been hiding Zatthu.” 

‘Hiding our Hebrew guest? Impossible. Where?” 

“Don’t be dismayed, mother. He is not under the bed.” 

‘But where is he? How could you hide him from such keen 
eyes as those of Marcus?” 

“In a hole in the garden; right behind a clump of rose 
bushes.” | 

“Rose bushes! Rose bushes! Why, Marcus asked Trinion 
if he was magician enough to hide a man behind a rose bush. 
He had hit upon the very hiding place and did not know it.” 


164 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“Yes, and I can imagine how Trinion was laughing to him- 
self when he answered the question.” 

“I noticed a merry twinkle in his eye. But how did you 
ever think of such a thing, and how did you ever dare to 
dout:% 

“I have been afraid that Zatthu would be recognized and 
be in danger of his life. I have been haunted by the thought 
ever since he told us of his escape from prison. So I made up 
my mind we must be prepared to save him. 

“YT got Trinion to dig a deep hole behind a thick clump of 
rose bushes — deep enough for a man to stand in and not be 
seen. And right here Trinion set up a box, a kind of trough 
for holding water to water the flowers with. He made it out 
of old pieces of wood so that it would not appear new and 
rouse suspicion; and he made it look so solid that one couldn’t 
think of it as easily moved. It was big enough to cover the 
hole and right over the hole he was to place it if the hole had 
to be used as a hiding place. 

‘‘Now as soon as I heard that vigorous knock at the door 
and knew that Rome — and by Rome I really mean Marcus 
— was on Zatthu’s track, I hurried our guest into the garden 
and handed him over to Trinion. What Trinion did, doesn’t 
need to be told. He helped Zatthu get down into the hole. 
Then he moved the wooden trough over him so as to hide him 
completely, though of course he saw to it that there was air 
enough for him to breathe freely. I cautioned him about 
that.” 

“I have no doubt you did. You seem to have planned it 
all as carefully as a general plans a campaign. But I hope 
the trough is water tight so that our guest will not get 
drenched.” 

“He won’t even be damp. The trough was thoroughly 
made. Its seams were all smeared with pitch. It doesn’t leak 
adrop. But dear me! Suppose it did? A wetting is a small 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 165 


price to pay for your life. But tell me; did Marcus make any 
search through the garden at all?” 

“No. A glance was enough to show him there was nothing 
there big enough to hide a man. That hole beneath the 
trough of course he did not suspect.” 

“JT have tricked Marcus! I have tricked Marcus!” ex- 
claimed Thisoa, not loudly through fear of being overheard, 
but with manifest delight. ‘And he is the cleverest Roman 
in all Palestine.” 

‘‘And the most generous, or you couldn’t be so merry over 
what you have done.” 

“True. I believe he is as just and generous a man as lives. 
But his cause is bad when he has to hunt down a patriot like 
Zatthu, and in his heart I am sure he is at this moment glad 
that he has failed.” : 

“Tt would be unlike him not to be so. But why did you 
plead a headache and take to your bed? And how about that 
key? Is it really lost?” 

“One question at a time, dear mother. This was a play 
with several acts and each one had to be perfectly planned 
and carried through. I took to my bed because I did not 
want to have Marcus fix those keen eyes of his on mine and 
try to read what was in my mind. And I was sure he would 
see something suspicious in the very fact that a healthy girl 
like me had gone to bed in the middle of the day. This would 
fix his mind on what was going on right here, in and about 
my room, and take it away from the garden. To make his 
suspicions centre altogether on this part of the house, I ran 
upstairs and locked the door that opens into the storeroom; 
and when you made the inquiry that I knew was sure to come, 
I said the key had been lost. Oh, how I wished I could see his 
face when you told him that! Didn’t he frown and look the 
very image of suspicion? 

“YT cannot deny that he did. I must admit, too, that you 
have played your part very cleverty and hoodwinked a re- 


166 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


markably astute and discerning man. But I am sorry it had 
to be. Such a warm friend of your father’s as he is. It 
hardly seems right and honest.” | 

“Tt isn’t honest, dear mother, and that is what makes it 
right, yes, beautifully right.” 

“Don’t talk so wildly, Thisoa. pereies is a vile thing even 
though enlisted in a good cause.’ 

“Mother,” answered Thisoa very ere “T am not talk- 
ing wildly. If I have been in a merry mood it is only the 
rebound from the hour of awful anxiety I have passed. 
through. ‘This Hebrew whose life we have saved is a very 
noble man. If he had been found here almost under our very 
roof and led away to his death —I believe I should never 
have been happy again. Do not look at me so fixedly. My 
heart is my own — at any rate, I think it is. But this man 
has a greater soul than any I have known. He is called to do 
mighty things. The God of his people is calling him. ‘To 
have saved him for his great and wonderful destiny is a thing 
to be proud of. Deceit! Why I would tell a thousand lies 
to save him and glory init! When I found an hour ago that 
he was in danger, I believed I was chosen by his Jehovah to 
deliver him. I told him so. He too believed it and he put 
himself in my hands. It was well. I have saved him, and to 
the great power that made us all, whatever be its name, I ren- 
der up my thanks that I, a weak maid, should have been 
chosen to do this wondrous service.” 

As she said these last words the girl stretched forth her 
arms and raised her eyes heavenward with a rapt look upon 
her face. 

Her exalted mood found a response in Xenodice. She too 
was deeply interested in Zatthu and his success. Much as 
she regretted that circumstances had forced one in her own 
household to thwart and deceive a close family friend, she 
could not feel sorry that it had been done. Indeed, she could 
not but rejoice, and fervently rejoice, that the noble Hebrew 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 167 


guest had for the moment escaped capture. Kissing Thisoa 
tenderly she said, 

“Tt is a good deed that you have done. Perhaps it was the 
God of the Hebrews that called you to do it. But its conse- 
quences are upon us. We have this guest of ours still to pro- 
tect and hide. How shall we do it?” 

“For one thing, we must not let father know anything 
about it.” 

“Why not?” 

“He is too honest. He would not know how to hide the 
truth from Marcus. He ought not to have to do so. It 
might compromise him and hurt his friendship with Marcus 
to act as an enemy to Rome.” 

“TY fear it would, yet I do not know how to keep him in 
ignorance of what has happened. I have never yet deceived 
him. It seems simply impossible to begin.” 

“Find a way, mother dear. Think hard, for this is a mat- 
ter of life and death.” 

“Leave it all to me,’? Xenodice answered after a little 
thought. ‘I see what course I must take and I will go to 
your father as soon as I am sure Marcus has left the house. 
But what are we to do with Zatthu?” 

“Feed him,” said Thisoa, her high spirits again becoming 
manifest. ‘The poor man must be starving in that hole be- 
hind the rose bushes. Trinion must take him something to eat. 
But we must make absolutely sure that Marcus has left the 
house before we stir a step. He is just shrewd enough to 
come back here suddenly to see if he could not catch us in 
some trickery.” 

‘And when he has really gone, what then?” 

“TY think our guest will have to keep to his room pretty 
closely and Nicon must contrive a hiding place for him —a 
space under the floor of his own room or some nook he can 
creep into so as never to be found. That hole in the garden 
really isn’t a very good place. The idea came into my head 


168 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


the other day when I was tending the flowers with Trinion, 
and I had him dig the hole and carry away the earth, little 
thinking it would soon be put to use. We must not trust to 
it again. But do call Thermion and let her find whether Mar- 
cus has gone. I shan’t feel easy till I know he is out of the 
house.” 

The maid Thermion soon brought word that the centurion 
had left. So Nicon was summoned and told to relieve Zatthu 
from his uncomfortable hiding-place, while Xenodice, not in 
a wholly satisfied and joyous mood, went to her husband. 


PART IIL—THE DAWNING LIGHT 169 


XX 


She found Aristarchus in a troubled state of mind. The 
search over, Marcus had come to him good-naturedly, had 
laughed over his failure and shown no resentment because an 
enemy of Rome had been sheltered and perhaps even at that 
very moment artfully concealed under his friend’s roof. But 
because he had acted generously he asked that he be met in 
the same spirit. He wanted Aristarchus to tell him how he 
first ran across Zatthu and why he had befriended him. He 
was also very desirous of learning how the Hebrew insurrec- 
tion maker had escaped from the prison at Caesarea. For he 
was sure the story of this strange feat had been told to 
Aristarchus. 

All this information the kindly and loyal Greek had cour- 
teously but firmly refused to give. He realized in an instant 
that he could not give it without mentioning Kelita and 
Shobek and bringing them into dire peril. So, much against 
his will, he had to withhold from a Roman officer knowledge 
he was legally bound to give. Not without mortification he 
saw he had been shortsighted. He had been drawn into a 
very compromising situation by pressing hospitality upon the 
man to whom he was deeply indebted. He would have done 
more wisely to bring Zatthu under his roof for an hour only, 
establish the relation of friendship with him and then let him 
go and find shelter with his own people. But it was such a 
strange chance that Marcus had seen Zatthu at Cesarea! 
How provoking that Fortune should have played him such a 
trick! Was she really a divinity, as the Greeks and Romans 
believed, and did she take delight in tripping up too trusting 
mortals by her outrageous tricks? 

“Marcus,” he said, after thinking over his disagreeable 
plight, “I cannot answer your questions; honor forbids. And 
if you, a Roman officer before you are a friend, should arrest 


170 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


me and make me pay the penalty for refusing to tell you what 
you have a right to ask, you would only be doing your duty. 
But bear in mind that I have drifted into this painful posi- 
tion merely through showing gratitude to a man who did me 
a great service — saved my life, in fact, for that much it is 
right that you should know. All my life I have been law- 
abiding and have respected Rome’s authority under which I 
have prospered. Possibly it would be to Rome’s interest to 
keep me as a friend, for I might sometime be able to show her 
that I was really a friend worth having. Nations as well as 
individuals may profit by being generous.” 

“IT shall not arrest you,” was Marcus’ ready answer. 
“Rome will, I am satisfied, do well to keep you as a friend. 
Moreover, this man cannot long escape us. Even if he should, 
I believe him powerless to do harm. He is misguided and is 
looking for help from above which I, a convert to his faith, 
do not believe he will ever get. But in spite of the thorough- 
ness of my search, I am not sure that he is not at this very 
moment hidden somewhere in this house, and I shall therefore 
place a cordon of soldiers around it. So I warn you not to 
do anything which might make you openly and undeniably a 
conspirator against Rome and really force me to place you 
under arrest. 

‘And now, farewell. May your perplexity not keep your 
wound from healing.” 

Reading her husband’s disturbed state of mind the moment 
she saw him, Xenodice let him speak before she said aught 
herself. When he had told her what had passed between him- 
self and Marcus, she merely inquired, 

“How is your hurt, my dear husband?” 

A little surprised that his narration seemed to arouse no 
interest, he answered carelessly, 

“Oh, much better, I think. My mind isn’t upon it in the 
least. I have, as you can see, things vastly more important 
to occupy it.” ; 


PART IT—THE DAWNING LIGHT aye 


“There, I am convinced, you are very much mistaken,” was 
the quiet answer. “You are still very much of an invalid. 
Everything that might cause mental excitement and unrest 
would seriously retard your recovery. I am going to be a 
very strict physician for a while and keep you in utter igno- 
rance of what is going on about you. You yourself, I am 
sure, will see the wisdom of this and ask no questions either of 
me or of Thisoa.” 

Aristarchus looked at his wife very searchingly. ‘There 
was no suspicion in his eye, not the smallest trace of resent- 
ment. It was with a curiosity that grew into mingled admira- 
tion and amusement that he studied the noble face with its 
expression of deep tranquillity. Tranquil as it was, he was 
not slow to read its meaning. Here was a prudence he had 
never known to fail, a devotion no power on earth could cause 
to falter. That audacious and resourceful daughter of his 
was carrying through some deep-laid scheme which had found 
the mother’s sanction. Yes, he could see it might be best for 
him to be an invalid too weak to know what was passing under 
his roof. 

“You are probably right,” he soon answered. ‘You are 
always right. I can always trust your judgment. Manage 
the affairs of the house for a while; and perhaps you will 
think it best to let very few persons see me. I shall not think 
it strange if our Hebrew guest does not visit me for the 
present; and possibly I might be sleeping if Marcus should 
come again soon.” 

The faintest suspicion of a smile showed in Xenodice’s face 
as she looked gratefully at her husband, passed her hand 
caressingly over his brow and said, 

‘You are as discerning as you are generous. It is good of 
you to trust me, and I will try not to abuse the trust. But 
what strange paths we sometimes have to tread through no 
choice of our own! Here are you and I not sharing our 
thoughts wholly for the first time in all these happy gracious 
years. Well, my dear husband, it will not be for long.” 


172 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


XXI 


It was not a comfortable hiding place to which Zatthu had 
been consigned. The hole was just large enough to admit 
him. Still he was distressed neither in body nor in mind while 
he was imprisoned in it. For he was too tense to think of 
his physical well-being, and too trustful to be nervous or 
alarmed. That this spirited Greek maiden had been ap- 
pointed by Jehovah to save him, he fully believed. Hence, 
when he dimly heard the door of the living room open and was 
sure that the Roman centurion was inspecting the garden, 
he felt no fear. 

Not at all surprised was he therefore when he heard Trin- 
ion telling him in a low voice that the immediate danger had 
passed; that Marcus had looked the garden over without 
suspicion and had gone back into the house; but that he 
would have to remain where he was till the search was wholly 
given up. 

Tranquilly he waited and it was not till the middle of the 
afternoon that Trinion moved the trough away and helped 
him out of his narrow prison. Entering the living room he 
found Xenodice and Thisoa there and they arranged with 
him a plan of action. 

Escape was not easy, the house being under surveillance. 
The only way to effect it seemed to be through Kelita and 
Shobek. ‘They would dare anything in his behalf. It was 
necessary to communicate with them. 

How was this to be done when the house was so closely 
guarded? 'The members of the family would be allowed to go 
where they pleased, but beyond question they would be noted 
and followed. But after careful consultation a method of 
procedure was determined upon, and the following day a 
well matured attempt was made to act upon it. 

Among the servants of Aristarchus was a shrewd and quick- 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 173 


witted boy of fifteen, Akkub by name, whose parents belonged 
to the poorer Hebrews of Capernaum. Left largely to him- 
self from early childhood, he had acquired independence and 
keenness of perception in manifold ways. By consorting with 
other urchins of like circumstance he had learned the youth- 
ful vagabond’s art of reading character. On the lake shore 
he had listened to the talk of hard-headed fishermen. Fre- 
quenting stalls and booths, he had become familiar with the 
astute ways of the oriental trader. When therefore he took 
service with Aristarchus at fifteen, he had the crafty and 
discerning mind which is only gained in the school of ex- 
perience. 

Yet the experience had not made Akkub either hard or 
treacherous while it had been making him clever. Aristarchus 
had treated him kindly and had inspired in him a loyal affec- 
tion. He could be trusted to do for his master any task that 
called for intelligence and fidelity. And if the task was to 
serve one of his own race, it would be sure to kindle an added 
zeal. Akkub was a stout little patriot and ardently hated 
the Romans. 

The morning after the search Akkub was summoned to the 
living room. There Xenodice and Thisoa acquainted him 
with Zatthu’s peril. His black eyes flashed as he heard the 
story, and no words were needed to show his sympathy and 
his desire to be of service. Quite overjoyed with the mission 
that was entrusted to him, he listened carefully to all the in- 
structions that were given him, and with a light heart and a 
confident step he started forth on his errand. 

Hardly was he outside of the house when he began to play 
antics. Exceedingly strong and agile, he had almost as full a 
mastery of his body as a performing acrobat. Soldiers were 
posted all around. Running rapidly toward the nearest he 
turned a somersault in the air just in front of him, landed on 
his feet and held out his hand for a coin. The soldier laughed 
but shook his head. 


174 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“You are too well paid to get anything from me,” said he. 
“But where did you learn to do that?” 

“Some Arabs that did such things were here once. One of 
them taught me. Don’t the Roman soldiers have to do like 
things in camp?” 

“Roman soldiers are taught how to fight, not to act like 
monkeys. But what else can you do?” 

By way of answer Akkub clambered up the soldier with 
marvellous ease and dexterity and stood with his feet perched 
on the man’s shoulders. Then, steadying himself by placing 
one hand on the securely fastened helmet, he said, 

“Now stand perfectly still and I will show you something 
else.” 

‘How can you show me anything, you knave, when you 
are up where I can’t see you? Come down and quit your fool- 
ing. You are making me a laughing stock.” 

The soldiers posted near were indeed laughing, though the 
rigid Roman discipline did not permit them to gather around. 
The man on whose shoulders Akkub had planted himself hap- 
pened to be a decurion, and those under him were amused to 
see his dignity thus lightly treated. But his threat did not in 
the least disconcert the Hebrew boy. With airy effrontery 
he answered, 

“T am sure you wouldn’t want to disappoint your fellow 
soldiers by having me come down without doing what I 
climbed up here for. So just keep perfectly still for a mo- 
ment.” 

With that he attempted to reverse the order of nature by 
standing with his feet in the air and his hands on the soldier’s 
helmet. But this pressed the helmet down so hard upon the 
decurion’s head that he became truly incensed and lurched 
forward to shake off this vexing encumbrance. It was how- 
ever exactly the movement that Akkub was expecting. Being 
prepared for it, he landed on his feet, looked reproachfully at 
the decurion and said, 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 175 


“How can I do my tricks if you don’t help me out?” 

“By Pollux, [ll help you out with a thrashing,” shouted 
the decurion. And then overcome by the comic gravity of 
Akkub’s face, he began to laugh and said good-naturedly, 
“But you are a droll knave, though. It really isn’t worth 
while to get angry with you. But no more monkey tricks. 
Marcus the centurion would have taken my rank away from 
me if he had seen you perched on my shoulders. What are 
you out here for, anyway?” 

“They sent me on an errand.” 

‘Who are ‘they’ ?” 

“My master’s wife.” 

*““What’s the errand?” 

“To go to the physician, Malluch, and ask him for some 
medicine. My master didn’t sleep well last night.” 

‘““No wonder. He knew he’d been playing Rome a nasty 
trick and Rome doesn’t forget such things. But you’re a 
pretty sort of messenger — acting like a monkey instead of 
hurrying off to serve your sick master.” 

Akkub looked sheepish and said meekly, 

“When I get to performing, I can never think of anything 
else.” 

“Well, you ought to have a good thrashing to make you 
remember better. But go on your way now, only one of my 
men must go with you to see you don’t stir up any mischief. 
Those are the orders. And if that physician wants to come 
into the house, he will have to get a special permit from the 
centurion. Those are the orders too.” 

This said, he beckoned to one of the soldiers and when the 
man drew near he sent Akkub out of hearing and said, 

“Nevius, go with this young imp to the house of Malluch 
the physician. Watch him closely when you arrive there and 
see whether he hands over any paper. If he does, seize it and 
go to the centurion with it, taking the boy with you. If no 
paper is delivered, bring the rascal back here as soon as he 


176 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


has done his errand. Mind you keep a sharp watch on him 
all the time, though I think he is harmless. His mind is on 
the pranks he can play and not on his master’s service.” 

Having largely disarmed suspicion by his tactics, Akkub 
proceed to disarm it more completely as he and Nevius 
went on their way together. Seemingly through pure exuber- 
ance of spirit he cut up capers unceasingly. He turned hand- 
springs; persons they met he mocked behind their backs; 
he begged for alms; he exercised the boy’s ancient preroga- 
tive of throwing stones. So by the time they reached the 
house of Malluch the physician, he had thoroughly convinced 
Nevius that he was a harum-scarum ragamuffin, as little likely 
to be used for a deep-laid scheme as would a bird of the air. 

Still, the trained Roman soldier did keep an eye on him 
when they stood in the presence of Malluch. His reason for 
accompanying Akkub he briefly explained to the physician 
without putting him too much on his guard. Aristarchus was 
suspected of harboring an enemy of Rome. So all who went 
from his house had to be watched and their movements noted 
carefully. But the errand of this Hebrew boy seemed a 
proper one to which the centurion, well known to be a friend 
of Aristarchus, would certainly not object. 

Nevius was shrewd enough to make no mention of a pos- 
sible paper. He was not shrewd enough to keep his eye every 
instant on the supposedly guileless Hebrew boy. Even while 
he was speaking, Akkub winked so hard at Malluch as to show 
him that his errand had an ulterior end. He also placed him- 
self a little back of Nevius just long enough to flash upon the 
eye of the physician a paper which he had as quickly con- 
cealed again in his garment. But the sight was enough. Mal- 
luch, keen and alert as ever in spite of his white hair, under- 
stood that in the few moments that followed he was to be the 
boy’s active confederate and coadjutor. 

Briefly Akkub confirmed what Nevius had said about his 
errand. Aristarchus, his master, had not had a very good 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT PiGa 


night. He wished something that would make him sleep, but 
the physician did not need to go to the house. The medicine 
sent with Akkub would be enough. 

This said, Akkub proceeded to stand on his head and walk 
about the room on his hands. Nevius looked at him and then 
at Malluch. He was a little puzzled. Would this dignified 
and venerable man allow such levity to go unrebuked? 

With a smile the old Hebrew answered his querying glance 
and said, 

“Don’t mind that impudent, mischievous boy. I know him 
of old. As soon expect fishes to fly and birds to burrow as 
that young rascal to behave himself. Just look at this 
Roman coin a friend of mine found in Egypt. It’s well worn, 
isn’t it? Perhaps your great Julius Cesar handled it once.” 

Nevius examined the coin just long enough to let Akkub 
do what he wanted. Still walking on his hands he got behind 
the unsuspicious Roman, balanced himself for a moment on 
one hand and with the other thrust the paper under a roll of 
manuscript lying on a table close by. Then he continued his 
brachiapedic gyration till he was directly in front of Nevius. 
There with an agile spring, he landed on his feet. 

None of his movements had escaped the eye of Malluch. 
Still, the crafty old Hebrew seemed all the time to be busy at 
a cabinet of olive wood in which he kept his drugs and simples. 
From these he prepared the remedy needed by Aristarchus, 
pausing now and then to address a remark to the Roman. 
The medicine ready, he gave it to Akkub, and the Hebrew 
boy and his custodian went on their way. Hardly had they 
left the house ere Malluch possessed himself of the secreted 
paper and eagerly perused the full instructions therein given. 
He knew of Zatthu. The fire of patriotism burned strongly 
in him. ‘The directions were no sooner read than they were 
carried out to the letter. 

Elated by his success in hoodwinking Nevius, Akkub in- 
dulged in wilder antics than ever on the way back to the dwell- 


178 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


ing of Aristarchus. Arriving there, he was too cunning to 
hasten inside at once, much as he longed to do so and make 
known the success of his mission. Again he attempted to 
entertain the decurion with acrobatic feats. Again the half- 
amused and half-irate officer told him to stop, as such antics 
were unbecoming. So with a grimace as if he felt that his 
efforts were unappreciated, he went slowly and seemingly with 
reluctance into the house. There he was met at once by 
Xenodice and Thisoa, who rejoiced not a little to learn 
that the all-important missive had reached its destination. 
Eagerly they waited the assurance that was to be given them 
at midday if their plan promised success. 

Not only eagerly but confidently they awaited the issue; 
for it really seemed as if Akkub had performed his task with 
cleverness and skill. That this was so could hardly be denied. 
None the less it was largely through good fortune that every- 
thing finally went well. Akkub had over-acted his part. Had 
Marcus known of his antics he would have been suspicious. 
He would have been sure that mischief was on foot and would 
have doubled the guard around Aristarchus’ house — the 
very thing Xenodice and Thisoa were plotting to prevent. It 
was easy enough to get word to Zatthu’s friends. Either 
Xenodice or Thisoa could have gone whither she pleased, un- 
molested. But the movements of either of them would have 
been carefully noted and communication with those who could 
help Zatthu to freedom would have been discovered and would 
have caused extra precautions to be taken to prevent his 
escape. 

Akkub was chosen because it was thought he could be the 
intermediary without making the Romans extraordinarily 
watchful. And so it proved, for the reason that Luscus, the 
decurion, was by no means an astute man. When Nevius 
came back from Malluch’s with Akkub, the decurion asked 
him to tell all that had happened. Nevius’ reply was brief. 
The Hebrew lad had asked Malluch for medicine, had received 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 179 


it and brought it away. Had no paper been passed? No, 
none. 

Luscus was satisfied. He considered the boy an empty- 
headed scamp, too playful to be trusted with any matter of 
importance. Accordingly, when Marcus came to the house 
a little before midday and got the decurion’s report, Nevius 
told of the errand to Malluch but he quite omitted Akkub’s 
remarkable feats of agility from his account. Assured that 
no paper had been handed to Malluch, Marcus saw nothing 
suspicious in the errand and proceeded to the house to inquire 
after Aristarchus. At the door he was told that the Greek 
was asleep and could not be disturbed. Was Xenodice well? 
Quite so. And her daughter? His young mistress, the door- 
keeper said, had recovered from her slight illness of the day 
before. At this intelligence Marcus smiled grimly, but went 
away without asking further questions. 

Could he have watched Xenodice and Thisoa and noted 
what they saw, he would certainly have doubled the guard 
around the dwelling before the sun went down. For just at 
midday Xenodice and Thisoa posted themselves where they 
could observe the nearest house, the inmates of which were 
Hebrews. Expectantly they kept their eyes upon it, and 
they had not long to wait. A little after midday a veiled 
woman appeared upon the housetop and slowly turned her- 
self about three times. 

“She has followed the course of the sun,” murmured Xeno- 
dice, “and all will be well. Kelita and Shobeck have got the 
message and the rescue will be made tonight.” 

For the veiled woman was the only daughter of Malluch 
and the instructions given in the paper craftily placed by 
Akkub had been followed to the letter. 


180 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


XXIT 


That Marcus wished to treat the household of Aristarchus 
with all possible respect he had clearly shown. A sudden 
renewal of the search for the Hebrew fugitive was hardly to 
be expected. Still, his plight was too desperate to allow the 
smallest risk to be taken. 'The slowly dragging hours in 
which he waited for deliverance he spent in Nicon’s room. In 
case of alarm he could instantly conceal himself there behind 
a partition which Nicon, who had a good degree of mechani- 
cal skill, had artfully made to appear solid and substantial. 

It was here that Zatthu got word of the seeming success 
of Xenodice’s efforts in his behalf and of the attempt his 
friends would surely make to rescue him in the course of the 
coming night. That this was proof of Jehovah’s approval 
and protection he devoutly believed; and dark though his 
immediate prospects were, he was full of hope and courage. 
He was an outlaw. Rome was hunting him. If captured he 
would be summarily put to death. And how could a fugitive 
from justice cause a rising in Galilee that would even shake 
the deep-bedded rock of Roman sovereignty? The task 
seemed an impossible one; but was it more so than that of 
Moses? 

The one thing needed was faith. This he had told his 
people again and again. He must not himself be wanting in 
it in this hour of trial. He was not wanting in it. He was 
thrilled with a sense of Jehovah’s omnipotence. What were 
Rome and the legions of Rome before it? As he thought how 
whole armies might melt at the breath of God’s displeasure, 
he cried out in the words of Jeremiah, 

“TY will make thee unto this people a fenced brazen wall; 
and they shall not prevail against thee; for I am with thee to 
save thee and to deliver thee, saith the Lord.” 

In the early evening he sent word through Nicon that he 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 181 


wished to see Xenodice and Thisoa. The message was gladly 
received. They too were desirous of a last word with him be- 
fore he left the house with the sword still hanging over his 
head. Nicon ushered him into their receiving room. It was 
into grave and sober faces that he looked as he entered it, 
but his own countenance was illumined by his exalted mood 
and his eyes were bright with more than their wonted fire. 

“T am so rejoiced to see that you are not cast down by the 
dangers that surround you,” said Xenodice as she went 
quickly forward to meet him. “You are indeed brave to keep 
so confident a spirit in the midst of these dire alarms.” 

“My confidence is not my own,” was the reply. “It is 
given me by the God of my people. Why should I doubt? 
Why should I fear? He who walked with his three faithful 
servants in the fiery furnace can deliver me from a few hostile 
swords.” 

“And He will! He will! cried Thisoa, with clasped hands 
uplifted as if in appeal to the Power in whom Zatthu trusted. 
“This night you shall be free and laugh at your enemies.” 

There was a softer light in Zatthu’s eye as he looked at the 
spirited girl and was touched by her noble enthusiasm. It 
was as if the spiritual fire that burned in his soul caught the 
glow of pure human feeling. How strangely God was leading 
him! What unlooked for instruments He was raising up to 
save him from destruction! In that moment of supremest 
peril when the hand of Rome had almost been laid upon him, 
it was not the armed men of Israel that had preserved him. 
It was a maid who was not of his own people and who had had 
no weapon but her own quickwittedness. And even at this 
very moment when he was waiting for his chosen comrades to 
compass his deliverance, he was shielded by an alien household 
and its trusty servants. Verily, here was a lesson he must 
read in all humbleness. Through all the days Jehovah 
allotted to him, he must be careful not to spurn any instru- 


182 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


ments, however seemingly untoward, that might be put into 
his hands. 

“Yes,” he said, “I shall soon be free. I shall soon be far 
from Capernaum among the Galilean hills. And it is to you 
that I shall owe my freedom.” 

‘““No, not to us,” replied Xenodice. ‘To the brave men who 
who will soon strike the blow that will give you your freedom.” 

“Ah, but what could Shobek and Kelita do, what would 
they have had the chance to do, if this house had not stood 
between me and death? May Jehovah shower his richest mer- 
cies upon you for your generous kindness to a stranger. 
Your husband,” he went on, looking at Xenodice, “has pros- 
pered. It is because he is a righteous man. Jehovah will 
make him prosper to the end of his days.” 

“My husband is a righteous man,” said Xenodice proudly. 
“No one of your favored nation was ever more upright than 
he.” 

“No, not one,” added Zatthu solemnly. ‘He could have 
said with our great Samuel: ‘Whom have I defrauded? 
Whom have I oppressed? Or of whose hand have I received 
any bribe?’ It grieves me sorely that his generosity to me 
has brought him into trouble. It grieves me too that you are 
forced to keep him in ignorance of the shelter and protection 
you have given me. You are sure he will not be offended with 
you both?” 

“We are as sure,” said Thisoa with a merry laugh which 
burst upon their solemn gravity like a gleam of sunshine, “as 
we are that the moon is round or that a dog will growl if you 
take away his bone. Why, it is going to be the happiest hour 
I have ever had when I tell him how I hid you in the garden 
and outwitted Marcus.” 

“And his friend the centurion will bear no grudge against 
him?” 


“For the pranks his wife and daughter played while he was 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 183 


taking a nap? How absurd that would be! As well blame a 
_mole for being blind or a cat for having a tail!” 

Thisoa had such an arch and roguish look as she said this 
that Zatthu could but smile. Just for an instant the wrongs 
of Judea and his own grave peril seemed far away. He could 
but look admiringly into the bright mirthful eyes and feel 
that never did lips curve into such a bewitching smile. But it - 
was only for an instant. ‘Too solemn was his mood, too deep 
his sense that Jehovah’s voice had called him as with a trum- 
pet to allow an earthborn sentiment to linger in his heart. 
Quickly the smile vanished and he was once more the man 
dominated solely by a sublime heroic purpose as he answered, 

“Glad I am to hear it, and glad too to see good in this 
Roman who would bring about my death. I bear him no ill 
will. He has but done his duty. But let Aristarchus know 
how much I honor him, how sorry I am to have given such a 
poor return for his hospitality, and how deeply I regret that 
I could not see him to say farewell.” 

‘He shall be told,” answered Xenodice. “He will remem- 
ber you most kindly, as my daughter and I shall also. 
Friendly to Rome as we have always been and have reason to 
be, we cannot help wishing that your cause may triumph. 
Rome could still be great though Judea should be free.” 

“And Judea shall be free,” cried Thisoa, whose eyes no 
longer sparkled with merriment but flashed with the fire of an 
ardent sympathy. “She shall be free and you shall free her. 
Your Jehovah is with you. He has raised you up to do things 
as great as your Moses and all your mighty men of old. 
When generations have passed the mothers of Israel will bless 
you because their babes can breathe the air of freedom. Go 
forth! Go forth and conquer! This house will always be 
proud that it sheltered one of Jud#a’s noblest sons.” 

Thisoa stretched forth her hands as she said these words 
with face raised heavenward. 'Thrilled by her fervor and 
even awed by it, Zatthu stood transfixed for a moment and his 


184 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


thoughts went back to the great things in his nation’s past. 
Almost could he believe that he stood in the presence of a 
Deborah who had been inspired to give him heaven’s own sanc- 
tion. Reverently he bowed his head as he answered, 

“Amen to your words of cheer and benediction. Sure am I 
that if my own people give me the trust and sympathy I have 
found in this generous mansion, I cannot fail. May Jehovah 
bless you all for your noble faith in one who but a few days 
since was altogether a stranger. And now I will go and 
await what the night will bring forth. But let us keep a 
stout heart in the meantime. All will certainly go well.” 

Zatthu now stationed himself just within the main entrance 
to the dwelling, ready to issue forth instantly when the right 
moment came. With him was the trusty Nicon to speed his 
movements. Calm, but with anxious hearts, Xenodice and 
Thisoa remained in their own receiving room for a while; but 
toward midnight Xenodice went to her husband’s bedside. 
The time had nearly come for Aristarchus to be told of what 
had passed beneath his very roof and what even then was 
passing. 

Just at midnight the time came. Of a sudden loud shouts 
were heard that seemed to come from the rear of the dwelling. 
They woke Aristarchus from his slumber and but for Xeno- 
dice’s staying hand he would have started up in bed, forget- 
ful of his wound; for startling was the din, and cries of 
“Rescue! Rescue! Rescue for Zatthu!” could be plainly 
heard. 

“Be quiet, my dear husband,” said Xenodice calmly. 
“There is no occasion for alarm.” 

“But what does it all mean?” 

“Tt means that Zatthu has been hidden here since he came 
from the synagogue yesterday, and his friends are now effect- 
ing his escape.” 

“He was hidden here all the time and Marcus did not find 
him?” 


PART II—THE DAWNING LIGHT 185 


“Even so.” 

“How I shall laugh at my good friend the centurion over 
that!” 

But the smile upon his face gave way to a troubled expres- 
sion as the tumult increased, the shouting grew still louder, 
and the clash of arms was heard. 

“T am glad he was not found,” he went on, “but this sound 
of fighting distresses me sorely. It means bloodshed. It 
means that Roman soldiers will be hurt or killed because my 
house has sheltered a man condemned by Pontius Pilate. Mar- 
cus is generous but he can hardly condone such violence as 
that.” 

“Do not be troubled. There will be no bloodshed. Our 
Hebrew guest is a man of honor and I think he would rather 
have gone to his death than have embroiled you with Rome 
or broken your friendship with Marcus. He saw that if any 
of the soldiers on guard here were killed, you would be held 
accountable for their death. His plans were therefore laid 
carefully to avoid any such happening. His two friends, 
Kelita and Shobek, have been strictly charged to refrain from 
taking life and to avoid violence so far as possible. Kelita 
with a numerous band was to raise a commotion in the rear 
of the house which would be sure to draw there nearly all of 
the force that is stationed round the house. Even the sen- 
tries specially enjoined to watch all the exits would have 
their attention absorbed by the assault that was apparently 
being made. But the assault was only to be a feigned one, 
and during the din and tumult Shobek and two other power- 
ful men were to steal upon the soldier guarding the main door 
and overpower him. Then three raps upon the door would 
give the signal to Zatthu who has for sometime been waiting 
there with Nicon. As soon as the raps were given Zatthu 
was to dart forth into the night and flee to the hills with 
Shobek, where Kelita would find them if he did not succeed in 
joining them in the dark. 


186 ZATTHU-—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


‘Such was the plan. That it has already been carried out 
successfully, I have no doubt. Hark! Do you not see that 
the shouting is growing fainter, is subsiding altogether? And 
listen again! Do you not hear that Halleluiah twice re- 
peated? That was to be the signal to us here that every- 
thing had gone as we had hoped and that Zatthu was on his 
way to liberty.” 7 

“Yes, he is on his way to liberty,” said Thisoa who came 
in with a beaming face? ‘‘He will soon be in the Galilean hills 
where Rome will never find him — and father, aren’t you glad 
and thankful in your heart of hearts?” 

“Yes,” replied Aristarchus drily. ‘I cannot help being 
glad. But the extent of my gladness depends upon the num- 
ber of Roman corpses lying round my house.” 


b) 


Part III 
THISOA 







4 


tee 


tis » Be wr, a Si 
ei unten) ic, i Na! 4 ‘ele v 


Nu 











PART III—THISOA 189 


I 


“What makes you so sad, Thisoa?” 

“Do I seem sad?” 7 

“Indeed you do. I almost feel as if I ought to go home 
and play with my doll Rachel. She is real good company and 
I have such nice times playing with her.” 

“Twelve years old and still fond of your doll! Well, I’m 
glad that it is so. Be a child as long as you can, my dear 
little Naomi. When you are a woman, there will be times per- 
haps when you will wish you could forget all your troubles 
by having a good cry or playing with your doll.” 

‘Have you any troubles, dear Thisoa?” 

“To be sure I have. Every woman has troubles. She 
wouldn’t be a woman if she didn’t.” 

““Won’t you tell me about them?” 

“No, dear child. You wouldn’t understand. But I don’t 
want you to go away. I love to have you near me and it was 
naughty of me to look sad. I won’t do so any more and I 
want you to tell me how you play with your doll Rachel. 
How came you to call her that?” 

“Because I liked it. Don’t you think it’s a pretty name?” 

“Very pretty. But who was Rachel?” 

“Why, don’t you know who Rachel was? Oh, I forgot. 
You are not of our people. Well, Rachel was the wife of 
Jacob — that is, she was one of his wives. He had another 
named Leah. [I didn’t know that a man needed more than one. 
Father has only one, so I asked mother once if he was going 
to get another. But she said I wasn’t old enough to under- 
stand about such things. I don’t believe she’d like it a bit to 
see another around. Do you?” 

“T am sure she wouldn’t. But tell me about Rachel and the 
little plays you have with her. I don’t believe my doll was 
half as nice as she.” 


190 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“I’m sure she wasn’t any nicer. I just love Rachel. You 
see, mother has taught me how she could be a good many 
different persons — not all at once, you know. She’s very, 
very clever, but she couldn’t do that. But sometimes she is 
Pharaoh’s daughter finding little Moses in the rushes. I 
think I like best for her to be that, for then she takes up 
Moses — he’s a tiny little thing that mother made for me out 
of a bit of old linen — and she loves him very dearly. Then 
sometimes she is Miriam leading the women who had just 
come through the Red Sea in the dance. Sometimes she is 
Queen Esther. She likes that. It makes her very proud to 
be a queen. And once in a while I have her be Jephthah’s 
daughter. She doesn’t enjoy that very much, though. - You 
know she has to be killed, and after she’s dead I have to have 
Elijah the prophet come and bring her to life again. Mother 
says he couldn’t have done it, for he wasn’t born then. But 
somebody has to do it, and it might just as well be Elijah as 
any one. But do you think Jephthah ought to have killed 
his very own daughter just because of a silly oath?” 

And thus the little maid of twelve, who had kept her child- 
ishness as not all girls of that age do in the Orient, helped her 
maturer friend to while away some of the weary hours. It was 
the third day after Zatthu had taken his leave amidst noises 
and alarms. Since he had gone Thisoa found there was a 
strange void in the house. It was felt indeed by all. Aris- 
tarchus said each morning, when Xenodice came to greet 
him and see if his wound was healing as fast as it should, that 
his first thought when he waked was of his departed guest. 
Xenodice herself admitted that the common everyday inter- 
ests seemed tame. Even the servants talked chiefly about 
Zatthu and hoped he was where Rome would not get hold of 
him. And Thisoa could not get absorbed in any of her 
favorite books or in any kind of handiwork. ‘Where is 
Zatthu?” she found herself continually asking. And what 


PART IlI—THISOA 191 


was he doing day by day in those hills toward which her eyes 
were ever turning? How she longed to know! 

But no tidings came. No tidings could come till some piece 
of good fortune brought them. An outlaw cannot give clues 
to his whereabout. Because he is an outlaw, he must keep out 
of communication with the seats of authority. The Romans 
in Capernaum were vigilantly seeking news of the man who 
had mocked them by slipping out of their hands. To give 
them the slightest opportunity of getting on his track would 
be a grievous mistake. No, to all in Capernaum Zatthu was 
for a while deeply buried in those hills that looked down on 
the Lake of Gennesaret. Not even the Pharisees and elders 
who had given favorable ear to his pleadings got any word 
from him. 

So Thisoa had to still the longings of her heart as best she 
could. In companionship she found most solace. She spent 
hours by her father’s bedside. She talked much with her 
mother, with whom her relation was very close and tender, 
though not now unreservedly. To no one could she yet reveal 
her deepest feelings. And the society of such friends as she 
had was very grateful. These were indeed few. Thisoa’s in- 
terests were too large and too intellectual to be shared by the 
young women who grew up in the guarded seclusion of an 
oriental city. For this reason in part she found the com- 
pany of her little friend Naomi diverting. Im spite of the 
difference in years the two had long been warmly attached. 
The girl lived only a few streets away. She was the only 
daughter of Jairus, an elder of the synagogue and a man 
whom her father greatly esteemed. The relations of the two 
households being most friendly, the child had for several 
years been in the habit of running to see this older acquaint- 
ance who always gave her a warm greeting. Because she was 
a child a freedom was allowed her which to the oriental woman 
is denied. 

But there was one woman in Capernaum whom Thisoa 


192 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


found wholly and deeply sympathetic and with whom she had 
formed an intimacy. This was Naarah, the wife of Marcus. 
To her she went a few days after Zatthu’s leave-taking, for 
the satisfaction given by a genial and responsive mind. 

“Naarah,” she said as the two friends exchanged greet- 
ings, “the dullest maid in Capernaum has come to spend an 
hour with you. Send her home if you find her unbearable.” 

‘You are making a poor beginning if you expect that to 
happen,” answered Naarah with the touch of genial sarcasm 
that sometimes marked her rejoinders. 

“You judge too quickly. I am so low-spirited I am a tor- 
ment to myself and I have come to torment you.” 

“Do begin right away. It is a kind of torment that I 
always find highly enjoyable.” 

‘‘Because you are so generous and unselfish. How good 
you are to give me always so warm a welcome! You seem as 
glad to see me as if you hadn’t as splendid a husband as ever 
a woman found to take up your thoughts, and two beautiful 
children to call for all your care.” 

Thisoa looked at her friend admiringly as she said this; 
and Naarah was indeed fair to see. The years of her married 
life had been so supremely happy that they had left no marks 
of care. Joy shone from the face, and in sweet content it 
was even more beautiful than when it had captivated Marcus 
at Rome four years before. Motherly pride now beamed 
from it at Thisoa’s mention of her children and she said, 

“They are sweet and dear in their innocence, are they not?” 

‘And thereupon she lifted up the older, a sturdy blue-eyed 
boy of three, whose resemblance to his father was already 
striking, who had been clinging to her and gazing at the 
visitor in round-eyed wonder. ‘To this challenge to her ad- 
miration 'Thisoa responded by taking the little fellow in her 
arms and fondling him so tenderly that the childish stare was 
soon replaced by a look of contentment and the tiny lips 
broke into a smile. 


PART III—THISOA 193 


“His precious little heart is a loving one,” she said. “O 
Naarah, I think you are the richest woman in the world.” 

“So I think too,” answered Naarah archly. “But come 
and see my little Deborah, though I know it will make you 
envy me to look at her. She is a little fretful today, so I am 
letting her lie in her cradle.” 

They went into an adjoining room where lay a year-old 
babe that had its mother’s full dark eyes. Kneeling by its 
cradle Naarah uttered a few soft notes in the universal 
mother’s language, and the babe which had been restless and 
peevish looked gleefully up and held out its dimpled arms. 

“Yes, I should envy any one but you, Naarah,” said Thisoa 
very gently. “But I can only feel that your Jehovah has 
joyed in filling your cup of happiness very full. He knew 
he was giving you only what you deserved.” 

‘“Won’t you tell me about your life in Rome,” she asked 
when the two friends sat down to talk together, “and how you 
and Marcus met and learned to care for each other?” 

“Why, Thisoa! How can you want to listen to that old, 
old story of mine again?” 

“Just because it is the most beautiful one I have ever 
heard.” 

Naarah did not instantly reply. Her quick mind divined 
that there was an unmentioned reason lurking behind this 
unexpected request. From her own people she had been hear- 
ing about Zatthu and his appealing personality. Her hus- 
band had kept her informed about those doings in the house 
of Aristarchus that had been the talk of all Capernaum. The 
romance of her own life came back to her and she read the 
mind of her friend. For a moment her mind turned to those 
days — how far off they now seemed and yet how fresh was 
their memory ! — when she loved Marcus even though she had 
no hope of ever seeing him again. Yes, she of all women 
could appreciate and respect those hidden yearnings which 
Thisoa could only gratify by listening to a deep emotional 


194 ZATTHU-—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


experience that in its beginning was not unlike her own. So 
it was with a bright and cheery voice that she soon answered, 

“Why, surely I will tell the story again if you really wish 
to hear it. I have never dwelt upon those Roman days to any 
one but you. The experience was too sacred. But there is 
little in my heart I am unwilling for you to see.” 

So Naarah told how she accosted Marcus in a street in 
Rome when he was playful enough with a flower girl to 
frighten her though he would have done her no wrong; how 
she had come face to face with him at the Theater of Mar- 
cellus when the terrified mass of spectators was stampeding 
for the exits; how she had recognized him through his dis- 
guise when he fought as a gladiator in the Circus Maximus 
and had been unable to tear herself away from the terrible 
conflict though it almost made her heart stop beating to wit- 
ness it; how Marcus had saved her from an awful fate at a 
low pleasure resort into which she had been kidnapped and 
had taken her to her home; how he was stabbed just outside 
of her grandfather’s door and borne unconscious within; 
and how, as she nursed and tended him, she found that he 
had loved her even from their first strange meeting but had 
tried to rule the love out of his heart because she was of a 
race the Romans looked on with no favor. 

“And you loved him, Naarah, even before you knew he had 
given his heart to you?” 

“That is a question you must not ask,” replied Naarah 
smilingly. “I have told you the story. It must speak for 
itself.” 

“Well, if it has to speak for itself, I will tell you what it 
says tome. You did not know you loved Marcus till you saw 
him fight the gladiator. But as you watched him then, your 
heart told you you would be wretched and unhappy if you 
saw him fall; and from that time any man but he would have 
had a hard task to win you, even though you never thought 


PART III—THISOA 195 


to see him again. Now, tell me, Naarah dear, didn’t the story 
speak the truth when it made me interpret it so?” 

“T have heard of pupils who were wiser than their teach- 
ers,” was Naarah’s sole response. | 

“It is true!’ cried Thisoa clapping her hands in delight. 
“It is true, and you cannot deny it. It just had to be so. 
You saw in Marcus a man so heroic, so strong; so magnificent 
that the woman in you was touched as it could be but once 
only. You need not try to cover it up. It was a thing to be 
proud of. Haven’t we women hearts that yearn to give the 
devotion that lifts us up and ennobles us and is stronger even 
than death?” 

The thought that pressed itself home in Naarah’s mind 
she did not express. Still more sure did she feel that Thisoa’s 
own heart had been touched. This her friend would sometime 
reveal. But she would wait for the confidence and by words 
wisely chosen instil the sympathy and comfort she could not 
openly give. Quietly and soberly she answered, 

“It is all true, my dear friend. To love nobly and deeply 
is a woman’s glory. Even though the love be not returned, 
she can wear it as a sacred garment that helps to whiten and 
beautify the soul. And if it is given back as she gives it, it 
makes her life radiant with joy. But alas! how seldom does 
that occur! Sometimes I cannot help wondering that Jehovah 
made the world as it is. 

“But why am I saying all this? I think even Solomon was 
puzzled by what he saw and went through — and dear me! 
I don’t wonder that he was, he had so many wives. Let us talk 
of what we can understand. Here you are, just full of news 
I want to hear and you haven’t told me a word of it yet. You 
know I haven’t seen you once since that bold man of my people 
was taken into your house and caused such a turbulent time. 
Tell me the whole story. It is your turn to talk and mine to 
listen.” 

“But hasn’t Marcus related everything that happened?” 


196 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“Of course. But Marcus is a Roman officer. He told 
things as he saw them. I wish to know how they looked to 
you.” 

“But Marcus is always so fair and just.” 

“True. No man could be more so. But the justest man 
in the world must give things the color of his own mind. He, 
vested with Rome’s authority, had to look upon Zatthu as a 
criminal and try to find him. You, whose guest he was, had 
to try and hide him. Ah, how I laughed at Marcus for being 
outwitted !” 

“Wasn’t he angry with you?” 

“Marcus angry with me? Why, Thisoa, what a question! 
Marcus never was angry with me and never could be. Of 
course I was glad he didn’t capture Zatthu. Isn’t he one of 
my own people?” 

“Did Marcus in his heart wish to capture him and have 
him put to death?” 

“In his heart, no. Yet he was naturally vexed at failing 
in a thing he had undertaken. But do begin your story.” 

So Thisoa began and gave a vivid account of the things 
the reader has been told in preceding chapters. So spirited 
was the narration that Naarah followed it with the liveliest 
interest; and in spite of Thisoa’s reserves she saw how and 
why Zatthu’s ardent, soaring spirit had deeply impressed the 
generous mind of her friend. When the story was ended she 
said with a burst of pride, 

‘And he deserved to be free. It was noble of him to order 
that none of the soldiers guarding the house should be slain. 
Such a man is worthy to lead and to deliver our people.” 

“And no one was killed or seriously hurt. I was so thankful 
when I learned the next morning that it was so. Didn’t Mar- 
cus admire Zatthu for acting so honorably?” 

“T hear his step in the doorway now. He shall tell you 
himself.” 


PART III—THISOA 197 


II 


Naarah was sitting with her visitor in a small room, not 
far from the street door of the house, which opened into the 
one where the little Deborah was resting in her cradle. As 
soons as Marcus had entered she called to him, 

“Come hither, Marcus, please. Come hither and bow to a 
mind more clever and quick-witted than your own.” 

Marcus came in with a smile. 

“IT did not need to set eyes on you,” he said as he greeted 
Thisoa cordially, ‘to know who was meant by those mischiev- 
ous words of my wife; and I am quite ready to bow to a craft 
which showed itself superior to mine.” 

So saying he made Thisoa a very low and stately bow. 

‘‘And now that I have done this act of homage,” he re- 
sumed, “I hope I have won the right to ask just how I was out- 
witted.” 

Thisoa flushed and said laughingly, 

‘You are a gallant enemy and recognize that all is fair in 
war. But supposing the war should be on again. What 
then?” 

“Oh, it never will be. Never again will a Hebrew sedi- 
tion-maker take refuge in your father’s house and be hunted 
by me and my soldiers. But as you are not inclined to betray 
your secrets, suppose I play the diviner and say that I paid 
too much attention to that missing key and the rooms it might 
have unlocked and too little to the garden where Trinion was 
watering the flowers?” 

“Who taught you divination, Marcus? It could not have 
been been Apollo, for you never believed in him.” 

“No, but was my teacher not a wise one, no matter who 
he was?” | 

“So wise that I think I should like to take some lessons 
from him. But you are welcome to my secret, for surely you 


198 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


are right in thinking that I shall never again have to exercise 
my wits in hiding from you a fugitive from Roman justice. 
We will be friends and if our Hebrew guest visits us again we 
will ask you to come and sup with him.” 

‘Thinking, I suppose, that as he would not let my men be 
slain he would not thrust a dagger into me.” 

‘““No, of course he would not do that. He is a man of 
honor. But thinking you would be glad to know him as a 
friend.” 

“If he were not Rome’s bitter and uncompromising enemy,” 
said Marcus, looking grave and abandoning his bantering 
mood, “‘I should indeed be glad to make a friend of him. His 
is a generous and noble nature. Loath, very loath I was to 
hunt him with armed men — all the more so because I believe 
he has done his worst and Rome stands in no danger from 
him.” 

Thisoa’s face lost some of its color as Marcus pronounced 
Zatthu not dangerous to Rome. This he noticed. He caught 
too and understood a significant look from Naarah which 
Thisoa was too intently looking at Marcus to observe. He 
would be careful not to wound this spirited girl unnecessarily 
or rudely cast down her hopes. Still he felt it would be well 
for her to know the truth as he saw it. 

“Why,” asked Thisoa anxiously, “do you think Zatthu 
has done his worst? Why do you think Rome need not fear 
him?” 

“Because her military strength is unconquerable. Every 
army raised against her will break upon her iron legions as 
the mightiest billows break upon the rocks.” 

“But,” exclaimed Naarah, eager to show her Hebrew sym- 
pathies and eager also to support her friend, “that is what 
Zatthu himself believes. It is not with armies in themselves 
that he hopes to conquer Rome. It is with armies led to vic- 
tory by the living God.” 

“Yes, yes, you understand,” cried Thisoa. ‘He is sure 


PART II—THISOA 199 


that the Jehovah he worships will smite the Romans as He 
smote the Egyptians in the days of old. Oh, he must, he 
surely will succeed.” 

“Yes,” said Marcus, “he surely will succeed if Jehovah aids 
him as He aided Moses against Pharaoh.” 

“But you have just declared that Rome is unconquerable 
and need not fear him,” said Thisoa in astonishment. 

“T spoke truly. Judea’s armies can never conquer Rome. 
There is no limit to the might of Jehovah.” 

“But He will not act with Zatthu and give him the vic- 
tory?” 

“TI do not say. JI am not a prophet.” 

“But what do you think?” 

“That question I am slow to answer. You have faith in 
Zatthu. So has Naarah. So have many. His enthusiasm is 
kindling. A mood so exalted lifts others into its own fervor. 
Not a generation passes that does not show some example of 
it. And there is something noble in such generous enthusi- 
asm. It has wrought much of the good that has been accom- 
plished in the world. When I meet it, I cannot but regard it 
with profound respect.” 

“But you never share it?” 

“Oh, no. I am far from saying that. There is even now a 
rapturous feeling abroad that I too share.” 

“What is that?” 

*“Reverence for Jesus of Nazareth.” 

“For Jesus of Nazareth!” said Thisoa slowly and wonder- 
ingly. “The very man whom Zatthu thought of at first as one 
who had greater claims to leadership than he himself, but 
finally turned from as unworthy. And you really believe in 
him?” 

“Most heartily I do.” 

‘What makes you do so?” 

“Things that I have seen. Above all, the cure he wrought 
for my servant Hacho.” 


200 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“Did he really cure Hacho of illness?” / 

“Of desperate illness. I told your father the story. Has 
he not told you?” 

“No. Probably he will. But our Hebrew guest has taken 
up all our thoughts of late.” 

“T will leave it to him to relate all that happened. Suffice 
it to say that Hacho was sick unto death and Jesus healed 
him without even seeing him.” 

“Perhaps the disease had spent its strength and he was 
destined to get well. How could any sickness prevail against 
such a stalwart man as Hacho?” 

“You shall hear from him. I will find him and let him 
speak for himself.” 

Marcus went out and soon came bringing the big Phrygian 
with him. More than a head taller than the average man, 
taller even than Marcus himself and proportionally large of 
body without having any cumbersome flesh upon him, he 
might well seem immune from the diseases that vanquish the 
human frame. 

“Here is a lady, Hacho,” said Marcus as they entered 
together, “whom you know and who wishes to talk with you. 
She won’t admit that such a stout fellow as you could have 
had a mortal illness.” 

“Indeed, it is hard to believe it, Hacho,” said Thisoa with 
a friendly smile; for she, like every one who knew him, had a 
most cordial feeling toward this faithful and kindly servant 
of Marcus. “Did you ever hear the story of Alcestis?” 

“No. Won’t you tell it to me?” replied Hacho defer- 
entially. 

“Alcestis, the wife of Admetus, was carried off by Death. 
But Hercules thought she was needed in her own home more 
than in Hades; so he went after Death, gave him a sound 
drubbing and brought Alcestis back to her husband and chil- 
dren. Now, Hacho, I am sure you could beat Death as easily 
as Hercules did.” 


PART III—THISOA 201 


“T fear not,” answered Hacho, shaking his head solemnly. 
“Death had claimed me when my master found one who saved 
me from his grasp.” 

“You got well Hacho, of course. But I cannot help think- 
ing it was your splendid health, your unmatched strength, 
that carried you through and made it impossible for the dis- 
ease, whatever it was, to destroy the spark of life in that great 
body of yours.” 

‘You would not think so if you could have seen me. Little 
by little I lost power over my body. I had to lie still, and I 
could not lift my head or move my hand. At last my heart 
was hardly beating, and it seemed as if every breath I drew 
must be my last. When of a sudden strength flowed all 
through me like a flood. Almost as quickly as a bow twangs 
and sends the arrow on its way, from being in the very arms 
of death I found myself as well and strong as Iam now. Oh, 
I could never tell the wonderful feeling I had when that new 
life was given me. It seemed as if every bit of my body 
tingled with joy. I was too astonished to speak at first; but 
I sat upright in my bed. Then I sprang to my feet. And 
then I cried out in my delight, ‘I am healed! I am healed! 
I am healed?’ ” | 

Hacho’s eye kindled as he said this and his face had a look 
at once solemn and beautiful. No one could behold it and 
not see that he had been through a great experience. The 
three who had been listening were all silent after he had fin- 
ished. They were too deeply impressed to speak, and at a 
sign from Marcus, Hacho, after looking at Thisoa and bow- 
ing respectfully, turned and went away. 

It was Thisoa who spoke first after he had gone. 

“Sometime,” she said, “I must see Jesus of Nazareth. Per- 
haps he too is called to do great things. But I am sure he is 
deluding himself and deluding others if he is aiming to be the 
deliverer of his nation. That is Zatthu’s task.” 

“Yes, surely that is Zatthu’s task,” said Naarah. “Let 


202 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


Jesus heal the sick. That he does it, I can bear witness; for 
I saw Hacho turn suddenly from death to life. But the em- 
blem that my suffering country needs is the eagle not the 
dove. It is the leader of sublime faith and heroic will that 
will enlist Jehovah on our side and make Him fight for us 
against the power of Rome, even as He fought for us of old.” 

“And if He does,” said Marcus instantly, “my sword will 
not be drawn against Judea,” 

“T am sure it would not, Marcus,” rejomed Naarah. “In 
faith, though not in blood, you belong to my people.” 

“But, Marcus,” said the puzzled Thisoa, *“‘you are a Roman 
centurion. How could you look on and see the power of 
Rome crumble and fall?” | 

“If Jehovah bids it crumble, let it perish. I am a servant 
of Jehovah before I am a centurion of Rome.” 

‘And yet you keep your office and discharge its duties.” 

“Why should I not? Rome has conquered the world. 
Where she rules she quells disorder and makes law prevail. 
True, her rule is sometimes harsh. This proud people hates 
it and kicks against it. It may be Jehovah wills to set them 
free. But I see no signs of it, and seeing none I serve Jeho- 
vah by walking as uprightly as I can, and I serve Rome by 
performing all the duties of my office as faithfully as I can.” 

“Even though those duties bid you hunt a man who is hid- 
ing from you?” said Thisoa, smiling faintly. 

“Yes,” answered Marcus, smiling also though his mood 
was grave. “Duty has a very ancient habit of taking a dis- 
agreeable shape.” 

“And it won’t ever take the pleasant shape of bidding you 
stand still and see this man, under the leading of the God he 
and you both worship, accomplish his great purpose?” 

“I fear not.” 

“Why are you so sure? Do not the sacred books of the 
Hebrews give promise of a man who is to come and redeem 


this people?” 


PART III—THISOA 203 


‘They do.” 

“Then why may not Zatthu be that man?” 

“Those promises are hard to understand. Even Naarah’s 
grandfather, whom I talked much with about them, found 
them very difficult to read. I myself have studied them. 
They are very puzzling, but I see in them no warrant for 
thinking that in a man like Zatthu they are to find their ful- 
filment. Let him have the honor that is due him. He is a 
patriot and a devoted one. But not from him will the light 
come that is to give Judea a new birth. If that light is dawn- 
ing even now, it is to come from Jesus of Nazareth. I know 
not how, but I am sure it will be so. The power that is in him 
is not his own. It is given him by God.” 

“You are yourself not easy to understand, Marcus,” an- 
swered Thisoa after a moment of thought. “You judge 
things by the light of a stern clear reason, and yet you do not 
always judge them so. You closed your mind against the 
religion of Rome; you opened it to that of Israel. You rule 
out feeling from your estimate of Zatthu; you let it color 
and even control your view of Jesus of Nazareth.” 

‘And your father — is he not a man of clear sound judg- 
ment?” | 

“Surely. No man more so.” 

‘And do not kindliness, sympathy and affection often tem- 
per his estimates of men and things?” 

“Yes, and that is what makes him just.” 

“Then why am I a puzzle to you?” 

“Because you go much further than he in letting feeling 
come in sometimes and mould your opinions utterly. My 
father accepts no religion. You reject that of Rome, but 
worship Jehovah as devoutly as Naarah’s own people. My 
father never gives more than hearty respect to other men; 
you seem almost to have bowed down before Jesus.” 

“As I think your father will sometime bow. As the whole 


204 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


world may sometime bow. I see in him what I have never seen 
in man before.” 

“Fiven as I see in Zatthu a soul loftier than that possessed 
by other men. I believe what he achieves will be spoken of 
when Jesus is forgotten.” 

“TY said I was no prophet; yet I as well as you seem to be 
prophesying. Only the years can show which of us is right.” 

“Yes, the years will show. The years will show,” repeated 
Thisoa very slowly and as if trying to pierce the future’s veil. 
“Ah, would that they might show it soon! Waiting is so 
weary.” 


PART III—THISOA 205 


III 


When the Babe was born at Bethlehem the Hebrews were 
in quest of light. They had reason to be so. Light had been 
promised them. Glorious and soul rejoicing were the prom- 
ises made to them through their prophets. A leader was to 
come and lift them into a greatness their nation had never 
known. The glory of Solomon was to be eclipsed. Their 
new day was to have a splendor before which that of Rome 
would pale. And the time was ripe. In power and wealth 
and numbers they had been growing fast. Only the promised 
Messiah was needed to break Rome’s hateful yoke and raise 
them to unheard-of grandeur. 

So thought the men who were wise in their books of 
prophecy and story. There stood the promises clearly writ- 
ten. They could not be misunderstood. They could not fail. 
The Messiah must come. The mouth of Jehovah had spoken 
it. But not to a rebellious or a disobedient people would he 
be sent. Their sacred annals showed that Jehovah was a 
jealous God who visited the iniquities of the fathers upon the 
children even to the third and fourth generation. In the olden 
days the people, God’s chosen people, had been terribly pun- 
ished whenever they had sinned. The sword of the heathen, 
the noisome pestilence, or fire from heaven had cut off those 
who worshipped false gods or violated the Law. Of supreme 
importance was it, then, that their blood should be kept pure, 
their worship undefiled, and the Law rigidly obeyed. On mar- 
riages with aliens they should look with scorn. A mongrel 
race Jehovah would never countenance as His own. The very 
intercourse with Gentiles was offensive in the eyes of Him 
who had of old commanded them to put the heathen to the 
sword. It would dull their pride. It would breed pollution. 
And all the rites and ceremonies commanded them by Moses 
must be most sacredly observed. It was Jehovah who had 


206 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


given them those ordinances. He had given them that His 
own people might be truly His children, from generation to 
generation. By unvaryingly performing all these ordinances, 
by keeping every jot and tittle of the Law, they would be His 
children. By forgetting them, by trampling on the Law, they 
would be no better than the Gentiles who bowed down to idols 
and invited Jehovah’s wrath. 

No wonder that the Pharisees who thought thus looked 
askance at Jesus of Nazareth. No wonder that the syna- 
-gogue elders of Capernaum saw in Zatthu rather than in 
Jesus the leader who would bring the promised day. And no 
wonder that Zatthu himself was offended by the readiness of 
Jesus to violate the rigid Hebrew tradition. In Capernaum 
and in every centre of culture in Palestine the tradition had 
become such a fetish that its spirit was lost. It had engen- 
dered a sanctimoniousness that is fatal to true worship. And 
to Jesus sanctimoniousness was as offensive as was the depar- 
ture from tradition to the Pharisees. So with divine clearness 
of vision Jesus turned for sympathy and understanding to 
the common people who heard him gladly. He turned to 
rough fishermen and publicans; and from the scribes and 
Pharisees he turned sorrowfully away. 

Yet these very men were anxious for light. They were 
patriots, eager to see their nation rise from servitude to 
power. And Zatthu himself was a humble and a very earnest 
seeker after truth. Could he have been convinced that an- 
other rather than he was called to lift Israel’s yoke, he would 
gladly have submitted to his leadership. Here was the tra- 
gedy that was being enacted in Judea. It was those who 
wanted the light that condemned the light. Panoplied in wis- 
dom as they verily believed themselves to be, they failed to 
see the true light that lighteth every man that cometh into 
the world. It was one more example of the eternally repeated 
story: When wisdom worships its own formulas, its day is 
done. 


PART III—THISOA 207 


These then were stirring days in which Thisoa set herself 
upon the quest for truth. They were days in which the Truth 
was working as a mighty winnowing fan. Not in Capernaum 
merely, but all through Palestine the sheaves of the under- 
standing were being threshed and the wheat separated from 
the chaff. Not that Thisoa could see this. It was clear only 
to one divinely illumined eye. None the less her quest was a 
very earnest one; for she herself was a genuine lover of the 
truth. To her mind Zatthu stood for it. To her ardent 
spirit, that was so easily thrilled by a great and soaring pur- 
pose, he made the same appeal that he did to the learned and 
patriotic men of his own race. He embodied the truth... He 
was called to fulfil the promises made to his people of old. 

None the less Thisoa had been deeply impressed by what 
Zatthu himself had told her of Jesus. If this man of Naza- 
reth was not born to lead and deliver Israel, he was yet gener- 
ous and merciful and pure. Listening to Zatthu, she had 
doubted Jesus’ power to heal, though a chord of tender 
sympathy had been touched in her as she learned how com- 
passionate he had been to the erring woman. And now that 
she found Marcus believed in his cures and Hacho had given 
convincing testimony that he himself had been saved from 
death, she could not but wonder whether he was not a larger 
and a nobler figure than she had supposed; Marcus was so 
wise. For his judgment she had.such profound respect. In 
questioning it, in representing it as less sound than that of 
her father, she had merely been acting on the defensive. 
Championing Zatthu, she was drawn into combating the mind 
‘which refused to see in him what she herself saw. In her 
heart she believed Marcus had a saner and a deeper knowledge 
of men and things than even her father had. In her heart 
she thought the more of him for accepting the religion of 
Naarah’s people and becoming a devout worshipper of their 
God. 


Did her own soul long for refuge in some equally quiet 


208 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


spiritual haven? The need was beginning to be felt. From 
the polytheism of the Greeks she had turned as her father and 
her mother had. Those deities of Homer with their human 
qualities were interesting beings. Some of them were reverend 
and austere. But to adore and worship them was to her 
quite impossible. Plato she read with interest and often 
found herself in sympathy with his elevated thought. But 
the bent of her mind was not toward philosophy, and those 
writings of his which’told of the life and death of Socrates 
were the ones to which she most often turned. It was deeds 
that made the strongest appeal to her. She loved the tale of 
noble achievement whether real or imagined. She read He- 
rodotus’ account of the Spartans at Thermopyle over and 
over again. The Antigone of Sophocles was her favorite 
play. Homer’s heroes she almost looked upon as personal 
friends. Achilles, Diomed and Odysseus seemed more like 
living persons to her than many of the people she knew. 

It was natural then that Zatthu’s ardor should have kindled 
a spark in her. Here was a man who was cherishing an heroic 
purpose. He seemed born to do great things. True, it 
would not fall to him to smite down mighty men of valor as 
Achilles did. That were too truculent and bloody a part for 
a man of his high spiritual zeal. But he would head armies. 
He would be sustained by the terrible might of Jehovah. He 
would lay Rome’s eagles in the dust. To an undreamed of 
greatness he would lift up his people and that greatness he 
would share. Here indeed was a man to be admired, to be 
encouraged, to be watched with painful and thrilling interest 
as he gathered the men of Israel to his banner. 

To this enthusiastic spirit of hers religion could make a 
mighty appeal. But the appeal must profoundly reach the 
emotions and thrill them through and through. It must de- 
mand her homage through sublimity of achievement or of 
character. Neither staid ritual nor dry maxim could touch 
a vibrant chord in Thisoa’s mind. But limitless self-sacrifice 


PART IlI—THISOA 209 


she was capable of viewing with the reverence of all her 
being. 

Natively resolute, not easily shaken in her deeply formed 
convictions, she went home from Naarah’s house in a per- 
turbed state of mind. Marcus must in this instance be mis- 
taken. Longing for freedom, Israel was surely calling for a 
man like Zatthu. He and he only was to lift her up from her 
low estate. Jesus, the friend of publicans and sinners, could 
not be the one to restore the grandeur and the glory of King 
Solomon. But she must see him and judge him for herself. 
She must also read those ancient puzzling prophecies which 
told of the nature and the coming of the Messiah. 


210 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


IV, 


Had Aristarchus not been kept within doors by his wound, 
and had he and Xenodice and Thisoa not had their minds 
taken up by Zatthu, they would have found themselves think- 
ing and speaking daily of Jesus of Nazareth. For at this 
very time he was in the mouths of all Galilee. Driven out of 
Nazareth, he had come to Capernaum and from that as a 
centre he had gone forth, teaching and working his miraculous 
cures. If the scribes and Pharisees, shocked by his disregard 
of their traditions, frowned upon him, “the common people 
heard him gladly.” 

This simple statement is indeed almost the only comment 
the Gospels make upon his power of reaching the multitudes. 
But in it is a world of meaning. To all the needy there had 
come a friend. ‘The social outcast, the poor, the sorrowing 
and all those brought low by bodily ailment found a com- 
forter at hand. The sinful were made to hope, the mourner 
was cheered, the leper, the blind, the lame and the fever- 
stricken were healed. Light dawned on all who sat in dark- 
ness. ‘The misery-laden felt joy rising in their hearts. And 
it was one benignant presence that brought this mighty influx 
of good. Through crowded streets, through quiet lanes and 
by-ways, over the hills and fields and by the lakeside there 
walked a gracious figure scattering blessings as he went. All 
Galilee was thrilled. Everywhere flashed the tidings that a 
healer had come to whose power there were no bounds. 
Whithersoever he went crowds flocked to see him. Those 
bowed by infirmity pressed near him to receive his healing 
touch. If any were too ill to move, their friends brought 
them within sight of his tender eye. The blind waited where 
they knew he would pass and cried out when they heard him 
draw near. 

Yes, all Galilee was thrilled. The whole province was in a 


PART IlII—THISOA 211 


ferment. What cared the multitudes for the disapproving 
voice of the men of enlightenment and learning? Their grati- 
tude had to have expression. ‘This man had stretched forth 
his hand, and lo! their ills were gone. Their hearts went out 
to him. Their talk was of him and of him only. If he drew 
near they would leave all and go to him. When he was gone 
they would long to see him again. Surely he had been sent by 
God. He had come to bring a new day to the earth. He had 
come to reign, and what a reign it would be! For this man 
would be such a king as the world had never seen. He would 
lift up the humbie and cast down the proud. He would open 
the prison house and give liberty to all who languished there. 
He would banish injustice and oppression. He would fill the 
whole earth with rejoicing, and misery and darkness would 
give place to light. 

But the more the people exulted, the more did the worship- 
pers of tradition frown. They did not indeed begin by being 
hostile to this strange and puzzling figure. He really seemed 
to have uncommon powers. It might be he was sent to do 
some great work by Jehovah. If so, it would be well to give 
him countenance and be in his good graces when the time for 
large action came. He was allowed to lead and teach in the 
synagogues. This really had to be, for his followers de- 
manded it. And, guardedly, hospitality was shown him. 
But how had he rewarded this gracious and kindly treatment? 
In the synagogue at Nazareth he had blasphemously claimed 
to be the one foretold by the ancient Messianic prophecies ; 
and when a kindly Pharisee had feasted him in Capernaum, he 
had let his own unclean followers swarm into the house. And 
what strange things had he done at Jerusalem! Those who 
plied a lawful trade in the temple and were a help to the 
devout worshipper he scourged and drove out; their property 
he treated with contempt; themselves he vilified by calling 
them thieves. For the Law given by Moses he had little 
respect. By setting aside its observances he gave the worst 


212. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


possible example to his ignorant and easy-going followers. If 
redemption was to come to Israel, surely it could only come 
through the men who had deeply studied the Sacred Books 
and knew how to interpret them. But these were the men he 
neglected and even openly slandered by calling them hypo- 
crites. Every day he was making it more plain that he had 
not been called by Jehovah. His miracles he worked by magic 
and sorcery. His power must be given him by the Evil One. 
He was a menace to the true worship of Jehovah. The more 
he won the hearts of the people, the more menacing he became. 
He must be watched. Every means must be used to thwart 
and suppress him if this power continued to grow. 

And daily his power did grow among the people; so Galilee 
was in the throes of a mighty upheaval. 


PART II—THISOA 213 


Vi 


The days went by. Summer gave place to autumn. Still, 
Thisoa had not seen Jesus of Nazareth. 

It was not that her resolve had weakened. A deliberately 
formed purpose she never lost sight of till she had accom- 
plished it. But her father, who might have helped her in such 
a matter, had gone on another commercial journey, and a 
long one, soon after his wound was healed. Jesus himself was 
not always to be seen. He was much in the surrounding coun- 
try. When he was in‘Capernaum, there was no one place 
where he could be found. ‘To seek him, therefore, was not 
easy; to summon him was futile. A summons to heal, he 
would indeed obey. But mere curiosity he would not heed. 

But Thisoa was not impatient. An excellent Hebrew 
scholar, she had read much the Messianic prophecies in Isaiah 
and pondered over them. They were indeed, as Marcus had 
said, not easy to understand. But even though they seemed 
for the most part very dark to her, she found some of them 
strangely and startlingly significant. Could they mean such 
embattled hosts and such a mighty overthrow of reigning 
authority as Zatthu was preparing? And did they point to 
such a leadership as he was trying to establish? She could 
not but doubt it. But then, Zatthu had not claimed that he 
was the Messiah. He had not been so arrogant as that. 
These strange and wonderful prophecies must be for some 
far-off time. What Zatthu asserted — and asserted with un- 
shakable faith and convincing ardor— was that Jehovah 
would help his people now as He had helped them of old. 
What God demanded in this latter day as in the olden time 
was faith. Let the people believe in Him and He would side 
with them. Let their armies take the field in His name, and 
He would make them invincible. 

It was Marcus who had dwelt upon the Messianic prophe- 


214. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


cies. He had brought them up and denied that they could 
point to Zatthu; that they might have their fulfilment in 
Jesus, he was not unready to believe. 

In Jesus! How all things seemed to be centering around 
this man of Nazareth! ‘Those who did not believe in him 
were growing to fear him. His followers were ever increasing 
in numbers; they hung upon his words and had wholly lost 
their hearts to him. He was placing all Galilee upon the 
judgment seat. To stand aloof and have no opinion about 
him was becoming impossible. More and more fully did 
Thisoa realize this as the days went by. She too must see 
and judge. 

This thought was in her mind as she was on her way to 
visit Naarah one afternoon in the month of Tisri. The early 
autumn rains had begun, but this day was so pleasant as to 
challenge all who could to come out into the open. For the 
sun had lost the intensity of Elul, which is the September of 
the Roman calendar, and the air was agreeably cool. Not 
surprised then was Thisoa to find her way blocked by a throng 
of people as she came to one of the more open parts of the 
city. Curiosity bade her linger for a moment on the out- 
skirts of the gathering before trying to pass around it. Tid- 
ings of some kind were undoubtedly being spread. Possibly 
they might tell of Zatthu and his doings. | 

What the crowd had assembled for she did not have to 
inquire. As she joined it she heard a voice speaking words 
of solemn warning to which all were listening in absolute still- 
ness. ‘The speaker had the whole body of hearers under a 
spell; but who was he? This question that shaped itself in 
her mind she felt sure she could answer. Who could this be 
but the man whose words were stirring all Galilee? But to 
make certain she asked a woman who stood next to her. 

“Is this Jesus of Nazareth?” 

Barely glancing at the one who could put such a strange 
inquiry, the woman answered, : 


PART II—THISOA | 215 


“Surely. No one else speaks like that,” and gave her whole 
attention to what was being said. So Thisoa also listened 
with the deepest interest. 

She listened but could not see. Tall though she was she 
could not overlook the heads of those standing before her. 
Neither could she peer through any openings in the densely 
packed throng. Much to her regret she also found she could 
not catch the speaker’s every word. She was too far away. 
For though the words were denunciatory they were not pas- 
sionate or loudly spoken. Always the voice was low and 
sweet and when its tones grew most intense, they showed a 
deep sorrow that was devoid of anger. Unsparing indeed 
were the utterances. Even though she heard them imper- 
fectly, Thisoa was thrilled by them. The generation was 
declared to be a generation of vipers; and all were solemnly 
warned that they would have to give account of every word 
they might speak. ‘To a question put by some one who was 
standing near the speaker, came the instant answer that only 
an evil and adulterous generation sought after a sign. And 
then came a startling personal claim coupled with further 
rebuke of the existing generation. It would be condemned 
by the men of Nineveh who had repented at the preaching of 
Jonah, for a greater than Jonah had now come. It would 
be condemned by the queen of the south who had gone from 
afar to hear Solomon, and a greater than Solomon had come. 

But even while the speaker was yet talking an interruption 
came. ‘The voice ceased for a moment and a whisper ran 
quickly through the crowd that the mother and brethren of 
Jesus were present and wished to speak with him but could 
not make their way through the densely packed throng. And 
with that strange quickness of discernment that a mass of 
human beings so often shows, all present began to turn their 
eyes on a group of persons standing close to Thisoa. She 
too looked curiously at them and saw a middle-aged woman, 
whg had plainly not lived a life of ease and luxury, and several 


216 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIEN T GALILEE 


young men unquestionably of the toiling class. But hardly 
had she begun to gaze when the voice of Jesus was once more 
heard and commanded the attention of all. It seemed to be 
refusing what had been asked, and Thisoa caught these last 
words solemnly uttered, — 

‘““Whosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in 
heaven, the same is my brother and sister and mother.” 

The voice ceased and once again Thisoa looked at the 
group standing near, as did all those assembled. Their faces 
she could not see well, but just for an instant she caught the 
expression in the eyes of the woman who, she realized, must 
be the mother of Jesus and she was puzzled by it. It did not 
seem to show either pride or humiliation, but there was some- 
thing wistful in it not easily to be forgotten. 

The people began to disperse and Thisoa went on her way. 
It was in a very thoughtful mood that she arrived at Naa- 
rah’s and she showed this in her face. 

“Why, Thisoa,” exclaimed Naarah as she met her, “you 
look as if you hadn’t waked from your last night’s sleep but 
were still dreaming.” 

“TY am not sure but that I am.” 

“Do sit down at once and tell me what has happened. 
What have you seen?” 

“I wish I knew.” 

“Tell me all, and let me see if I cannot help you.” 

So Thisoa related what has just been told, and ended by 
saying, 

‘“‘Now who is this man who openly rebuffs his own mother 
and yet claims to be greater than your great men of old?” 

Naarah did not answer at once. When she spoke she said, 

“Why not seek his mother and find out from her?” 

“Ah, it is because you are a mother yourself that you say 
that.” 

“In other words, being only too ready to talk of my own 


PART III—THISOA 217 


children, I count upon every mother’s showing the same 
feeling.” ; 

Thisoa smiled, but her mood was too serious to lend itself 
to raillery. 

“Tf you have the ‘failing,’ Naarah,” she said, “‘you have it 
wonderfully under control. But of course you know the 
mother’s heart, and perhaps your suggestion is a wise one. 
I do not quite see though how to act upon it. We neither of 
us know the mother of Jesus.” 

“She is of my people. I can get acquainted with her.” 

“Just to draw her out and make her talk of the son who 
has almost disowned her before others? Would that be 
right? Is not a mother’s heart too sacred to have its deepest 
feelings probed?” 

“Leave that to me, a mother. She shall be treated with 
absolute sympathy and kindness. But I am going to seek her 
out and know her. Marcus will make it easy for me to do so. 
There is nothing he cannot arrange with that clever mind of 
his and the power of Rome behind him. And when acquain- 
tanceship is established, I will see that you share it. So wait 
a little and I promise you that you shall hear from me.” 


| 218 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


VI 


Mary the mother of Jesus lingered a while in Capernaum, 
and Marcus easily paved the way for Naarah to become 
acquainted with her. First of all he sought her himself, 
made an official inquiry of a trivial character, vanquished her 
timidity and suspicion by his grave courtesy, spoke with deep 
feeling and gratitude of the cure that had been wrought for 
Hacho, and went away. Naarah’s approach was made with 
equal delicacy and kindliness. As a result Thisoa soon re- 
ceived a message that she was to come to Naarah’s house at 
a given hour. The mother of Jesus had promised to come at 
that time and see Naarah’s children. 

Thisoa went gladly. The woman that she met she viewed 
at first with deep interest; but soon her feeling became one 
of reverence and awe. In the sweet patient face there was 
that. which she knew not how to read. For more was to be 
seen there than the deep peace and content that comes from 
gratified maternal desire and the play of maternal tender- 
ness. The full dark eyes were soft and dreamy. The light in 
' them seemed to come from some strange unwonted depth of 
experience. Their gaze‘did not show inquiry. It revealed a 
spirit that was more given to brooding over its own hidden 
life than sounding the minds of others. ‘Those who searched 
them were met with a brief answering glance of faintly roused 
interest and then their look was far away. The voice was 
always low and gentle. It never became animated. Neither 
was the smile that sometimes played for a moment over the 
lips a bright and merry one. It suggested mere human sym- 
pathy without mirthfulness. The whole being seemed resting 
under a solemn hush which it feared to break. It was as if 
listening, listening, ever listening for some low sweet strain 
that earth’s noises might easily drown. 

She was fondling Naarah’s children when Thisoa entered 


PART III—THISOA 219 


and first saw her. That her heart was touched by their 
innocence and their captivating ways was manifest. She 
took each of them in her arms by turns. Each rested there 
in full contentment. But she did not win them by the toss 
of the head and merry laughing sounds that so commonly 
seem alluring to babyhood. It was the eyes that looked into 
theirs that held them. In their tender depths the child saw 
that which bade it be still and tranquil. Not even little Deb- 
orah smiled as she gazed up into the calm, sweet face in 
innocent wonder. But she knew she was in some haven of rest. 

When she had given the two children due attention, Mary 
sat down with Naarah and Thisoa. Her comment upon them 
was not the fulsome one that the maternal cravings are sup- 
posed to demand. She said simply, 

“They are sweet. You are blessed.” 

“Yes,” replied Naarah, “‘and the blessing will grow more 
rich as the years pass, will it not?” 

The answer did not come immediately and the question 
seemed to bring just the shadow of a cloud over the face. 
After a moment, she said, 

“May Jehovah make it so.” 

“T am sure that He will, though I cannot hope the years 
will bring me what they have brought to you. For you are the 
mother of one to whom all are looking for help and healing.” 

Just a faint look of pride was in Mary’s eyes as she an- 
swered, 

“Yes, my Jesus has healed many.” 

“And are you not very proud to be his mother?” asked 
Thisoa. 

“Yes, proud, and yet fearful and troubled.”” The shadow 
seemed to deepen a little as she said this. 

“Of what are you fearful?” 

““Hle came to me in a wonderful way, as no other child ever 
came into the world. In his childhood and his youth he was 
not like my other children. And this life he is living now — 


220 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


is it not marvelous? But it fills me with dread. I know not 
what the end will be.” 

“Tell us of his childhood, will you not?” asked Naarah. 
“TI should love to hear about it.” 

‘And how was it that the way he came to you was wonder- 
ful?” said Thisoa. ‘‘Will you not tell us about that too?” 

“That story I could hardly tell. It is too sacred. I can 
only say, an angel came and brought me the strange tidings 
that Jesus was to be born. My soul was filled with wonder 
and awe.” 

Her two listeners were awed by her solemn manner. They 
- felt that further questions were out of place and sat in silence 
waiting for her to speak again. Presently she resumed, but 
her sentences came slowly, brokenly. It seemed as if before 
each utterance she waited for some power outside of and 
beyond herself to tell her what to say, what to refrain from 
saying. Was the same angel that once came to her with the 
wondrous tidings now ordering her speech? Naarah could 
not help so wondering as she thought how God’s messengers 
had come to His chosen ones in the early far-off days. 

“Because the angel had come to tell me of him,” she said, 
“TY knew him as a gift from God. And yet it did not quite 
seem as if he were given to me. I hardly dared think of him as 
mine. Even when he was a babe there was that in his eyes 
which made me stand still and wonder. 

“He soon learned to understand me and to talk. It seemed 
to come of itself. Itaught him little. But he did not use many 
words. When he sat on my knee he would often pay no heed to 
what I said but would keep his eyes fixed before him as if busy 
with thoughts of his own. Again, he would look up at me and 
smile — oh, what a wondrous smile he had! — but say nothing.” 

Here Mary paused and seemed to lose herself in revery. 
But very soon she became conscious of her hearers and began 
again. 

*‘“He learned to read just as he had learned to understand 


PART III—THISOA 221 


and to speak. I used to wonder if Jehovah’s angels taught 
him. He could laugh and be merry. He loved to be with 
other children. He played with them. But best of all he 
liked to read our Sacred Books and ponder over them. As I 
watched him do this, a strange feeling of awe and dread came 
over me sometimes. For our Books spoke to him as to no 
one else. As he pored over them his face would light up with 
joy. Then sometimes he would seem to be startled and to see 
things that caused him wonder and pain. 

“He grew wise, so very wise that I realized more and more 
that he was not mine. When he was twelve a thing happened 
that brought this home to me. My husband and I took him 
with us to Jerusalem. Never was a child more obedient and 
dutiful than he; but when we returned he remained behind. 
We thought he was journeying home with a company of our 
friends. When we found he was not, we hurried back to Jeru- 
salem to seek him. After much trouble we found him in the 
temple talking with our wisest men. To them his deep 
knowledge of our Sacred Books gave pleasure; but our 
hearts had been so anxious that we rebuked him and asked 
why he had caused us such sorrow. But he in turn looked at 
us rebukingly and asked us if we did not know he must be 
about his Father’s business.” 

Again Mary paused. Naarah and Thisoa had listened 
absorbed and hoped she would say more. But they sat in 
silence without venturing to suggest it. They were not dis- 
appointed, for after a few moments she spoke again and 
brought her story to an end. 

“From that hour I felt that he belonged to Jehovah, even 
more than Samuel did after Jehovah called him. Yet he lived 
on with us and heeded perfectly the commandment of Moses 
which says, ‘Honor thy father and thy mother.’ I loved to 
have him in the house for his presence was a blessing. "When 
he was out of it I felt as if there was not any sunlight. 

“My husband is a carpenter and day after day Jesus toiled 


222 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


with him in the shop. He worked hard and whatever he put 
his hand to he took pride in doing well. But sometimes 
when I went into the shop — and I stole in often for my heart | 
ever drew me there —I would find that he was standing still 
with his hand on the saw or plane and was looking far away. 
Once when I went in he had paused from his work to read in 
one of our books he had by him and his face had a troubled 
look. I could not help going to him and asking him what it 
was that grieved him. He gazed at me tenderly for a moment 
without speaking and then, resting his finger on the scripture, 
said slowly in words which I knew were not his own but those 
of the ancient prophecy, ‘As many were astonished at thee; 
his visage was so marred more than any man and his form 
more than the sons of men.’ 

“That question that he asked us when we found him in the 
temple at Jerusalem haunted me ever afterwards. I was ever 
fearing the time when he would leave us, and our home would 
be his no more. And now the time has come. He has really 
gone about his Father’s business. The way he has chosen 
seems strange tome. He helps the common people and makes 
them his friends. The scribes and the Pharisees he rebukes 
and turns them against him. I do not understand it at all, 
but I am sure he is wise. I am sure he is doing what Jehovah 
sent him into the world to do.” 

“YT heard him only a few days ago,” said Thisoa. ‘‘He was 
asked for a sign—TI think it was some of the scribes and 
Pharisees that asked him — and he said it was only an evil 
and adulterous generation that wanted a sign. They must 
have been stung by the reproach. And then he went on to 
say wonderful things about the judgment those who lived 
long ago would pass on those who lived today, because one 
who was very great had come and the people would not 
repent. Yes, they were wonderful things that he said. I 
have been thinking much about them.” 

Mary cast at Thisoa a quick apprehensive glance the mo- 


PART II—THISOA 223 


ment her words showed she had been present when Jesus had 
disclaimed full human kinship. She listened attentively till 
Thisoa ended; then she said quickly, 

“You saw then how Jesus would not recognize his brothers 
and me, his mother, before those who had assembled to hear 
him. Did you think it strange?” 

“Yes, I could not really help thinking so.” 

“You must not think so. I have shown you why you must 
not. Jesus belongs to Jehovah, not to me. He does only 
what is right. He must be about his Father’s business. And 
yet I cannot help being proud, oh, so very, very proud, that 
I gave him birth.” 

Mary’s face was beautiful as she said these last words. It 
showed pride, but a pride so chastened that a deep humility 
could also be read there; and the eyes had a strange look of 
yearning for that which no human sympathy could give. 
Presently she continued, 

“Yes, I shall always be proud of that. I was his mother, 
and through all these years he has been a kind and loving son 
tome. The love is still in his heart. I know it is there and it 
will be there as long as he lives. But he is called to do won- 
derful things, more wonderful I sometimes think than have 
ever been done before upon the earth. I must not stand in 
the way of them. Let Jehovah’s will be done. Yes, let it be 
done even if it brings suffering to him, as I fear it may. My 
‘people have done very cruel things sometimes. And he, so 
gentle, so kind, so tender, and yet so eager to rebuke all the 
evil that he sees — will they love and honor him? Ah, if they 
should bring only sorrow to his heart, my own would be very, 
very sore.” 

As Mary said these words her eyes moistened and her lip 
trembled. Controlling herself in a moment she looked grate- 
fully on her two hearers and said, 

“You have been most kind to let a mother open her heart 


224 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


to you. May Jehovah bless you both. Now I must say, 
Farewell.” 

“Farewell,” said Naarah as with deep tenderness she kissed 
the sweet kindly face. “But I will not say, ‘May Jeho- 
vah bless you.’ For surely He has blessed you abundantly 
already.” 

Thisoa too was deeply moved as she said her word of part- 
ing, but she sat in silence after Mary had gone. Neither did 
Naarah feel like speaking immediately; but presently she 
asked, 

“Was it not well that we got the mother’s story? Could 
we have learned from any one else what we have learned 
from her?” 

“From no one else.” 

“And now tell me what you have learned.” 

“YT could not tell you. I do not know myself. I do not 
think that I shall know till after many days.” 


PART IlI—THISOA 225 


Vil 


Many times after listening to Mary’s story Thisoa wan- 
dered through the city in the hope of again finding Jesus 
speaking to a gathering of the people. Never rigidly bound 
by conventions, she would in any case have refused to obey 
them blindly. She would have carried out her purpose even 
though it had been a noticeable infringement of oriental cus- 
tom for her to go freely and unattended about Capernaum. 
As it was, her action could not have been regarded peculiar, 
for her quest was the common one. ‘To see and hear Jesus 
was the one ardent longing of man and woman, young and 
old, throughout Galilee. 

But she was not successful. Once or twice she got word 
that Jesus was in the city and was teaching or performing 
cures; but the news never reached her in time to make a meet- 
ing possible. And after a good many days something hap- 
pened which demanded her time and thought. 

Her little friend who prattled so innocently about her doll 
fell ill. Naomi was sick of a fever and she asked for Thisoa. 
In Thisoa she had always confided. Not even her mother 
seemed able to soothe and comfort her like this friend who 
had always heard her with sympathy, and never uttered a 
word of impatience or rebuke. So Thisoa went to the bedside 
every day and passed hours there in ministering to the fret- 
ful and suffering child. 

“Do you like to be with me? Am TI not a great care and 
trouble to you?” asked the little girl one day as she opened 
her eyes wide and looked intently at Thisoa. 

“No, dear. If you love to have me with you, I am happy 
to be here,”? was Thisoa’s answer: and as she saw the look of 
contentment that came into the flushed and burning face, she 
felt that what she began to say out of mere sympathy was 
said with truth. 


226 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


Not constantly could her ministrations be active and she 
had much time to think. It was in one direction that her 
thoughts were always turning. Where was Zatthu and what 
was he doing? More than two months had passed since his 
midnight flight from Capernaum; and still there was no 
word from him. Did this mean that so far he had failed? 
No, surely there was no reason for believing that. His task 
was stupendous. It must make headway slowly. It must be 
performed in secrecy, -besides. No, it could not fail. Some 
day he would suddenly appear with an army behind him. 
From every side men would flock to his banner. The Romans 
would be overwhelmed before they could strike one vigorous 
blow and those disparaging assertions of Marcus would be 
belied. 

And then her mind would dwell on the man who was raising 
no standard and seemed to have no thought of war or con- 
quest, but who was winning the hearts of all the people of 
Galilee. How different the two men were! How unlike were 
the ends they had in view! Surely, Zatthu’s was the higher 
and the grander end, for it concerned a whole nation’s wel- 
fare. Jesus, on the other hand, seemed indifferent to the 
greatness of his country. He only aimed to heal the body 
when he found it was diseased and to purify the heart when 
it was the seat of evil desires. A noble end, it was true. But 
the Hebrew people were under a foreign yoke and this could 
not be shaken off by vanquishing disease or abating wicked- 
ness. 

And yet — that healing power was so wonderful! Whence 
came it? What did it mean? And after all, was it not for 
some purpose larger than could now be grasped that this 
man, about whom his mother talked so beautifully, was 
brought into the world? It was all very perplexing. But 
to free the body of its ills was a blessing indeed. She looked 
at the bed where little Naomi lay and wondered why the power 
had not been called to her deliverance. In part, no doubt, 


PART III—THISOA 227 


because her father shrank from the criticism of his asso- 
ciates. Jairus was an open-minded man. He would have 
given Zatthu the same favorable opinion of Jesus that Joiada 
had expressed. Steadily had he believed that the one who 
healed diseases without number was to be viewed with kindly 
eyes. But he found that his friends in the synagogue were 
by no means in accord with him. They looked upon Jesus 
with profound dislike and they treated with coldness all who 
disagreed with them. 

It was however the physician Ammihud —a much nar- 
rower and more petty-minded man than Malluch — who had 
really prevented an appeal to the great healer. Called in as 
soon as Naomi was sick, he came every day and every day 
left some medicine or potion. In the beginning with interest, 
soon with dislike, Thisoa had watched him and his movements. 
He was short, middle-aged, bald-headed and spare of body. 
It was an unctuous smile that was now and then to be seen on 
his withered face; but his look was furtive and his eye was 
without the light of kindliness. As he entered the room, 
crouching forward and rubbing his hands together, his greet- 
ing was always the same, 

‘And how is our little Naomi today? Better, much better, 
I am sure.” 

Then, sitting by the bedside and taking the pulse, he would 
nod the head as he said, 

“The fever still high, but we must have patience, patience. 
My medicines cannot fail to bring a cure.” 

And after a parting injunction to the mother and a re- 
newed assertion of his skill, he would go on his way. 

Quiet sleep the drugs did sometimes give, but that was all. 
The burning fever wore away the strength. Too weak to 
talk, Naomi lay still upon the bed. Yet she always seemed 
glad to have Thisoa with her, and once in a while she would 
recognize her by a smile. But the day came when she passed 


228 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


wholly into unconsciousness and her pallor showed that death 
was near. 

‘““Why have you deceived me thus?” demanded her father 
of Ammihud. “Only yesterday you assured me that the dis- 
ease had spent itself and she would speedily mend.” 

“My medicines are potent,” replied the physician, shrug- 
ging his shoulders. ‘They cure when cure is possible. But 
nothing can be done against the will of Jehovah.” 

“Oh, but it cannot be Jehovah’s will that my Naomi should 
die,” cried the grief-stricken mother. “Is not Jesus of Naza- 
reth in Capernaum? Find him, my husband! Find him! He 
heals all who are sick and languishing. He will heal my own 
dear child.” 

“*T will seek him,” answered Jairus. “I will seek him at once. 
My brethren of the synagogue will censure me. But my child 
is dying. It is our only hope.” 

So saying, he turned to go. As he did so Ammihud, who 
plainly resented the idea that another might succeed where 
he had failed, remarked sneeringly, 

‘You would best hurry, or this Jesus may have to call the 
dead to life; and you will hardly expect him to do that.” 

Jairus gave him an indignant look, but hurried out of the 
room without replying. Ammihud himself did not withdraw, 
but stood watching the still, unconscious form. By the bed- 
side sat the mother, bowed with anguish, and Thisoa too kept 
her place there. She felt that the end was near, and harrow- 
ing though it was to see the innocent life come to a close, she 
was not willing to go away. A believer now in Jesus’ power 
to heal, she fervently longed for his coming. Yet she had 
little hope that he would come in time. Naomi was plainly 
breathing her last. 

Very soon she did breathe her last. The breaths grew 
fainter and shorter. Consciousness coming for a moment at 
the very end, she opened her eyes, recognized her mother and 
Thisoa and smiled upon them; and then, with one long sigh 


PART III—THISOA 229 


as if she were too weary to live longer, passed quietly away. 

“She is dead,” said Ammihud unfeelingly. ‘‘Jesus is not 
wanted here. I will find Jairus and tell him so.” 

Thereupon he hastily departed and Thisoa and the mother 
were left alone with the dead child. Putting her arms about 
the sorrowing woman, Thisoa kissed her tenderly and then 
withdrew. Such grief was too sacred to be shared, too deep 
to call for barren words of consolation. 

In the room without she found a group of wailing relatives 
and friends. Ammihud had told them the sad news and their 
lamentation was loud and unrestrained after the oriental 
fashion. They beat their breasts and expressed their grief 
by tears and distressful cries. Neither decorous nor con- 
siderate did their actions seem to Thisoa. She felt that the 
noise they made must be disturbing to the heart-broken 
mother within; and she felt too that the mantle of silence 
should enfold the form that was lying silent and still. But 
she made no protest. It would have only called forth angry 
words and unfriendly glances. Some of the relatives there 
were near ones, and they were already jealous of Thisoa 
because she had been with Naomi in her last moments while 
they had been kept away. So she waited for a short time 
quietly in the hope that there might be some service for her 
still to render. Then making up her mind that she was out 
of place there, she approached the street door to go to her 
own home. 

As she did so she heard steps outside; the door was gently 
opened and Jairus entered followed by several men. On the 
foremost of these her eyes were at once riveted. Imperfect 
had been the glimpse she got of Jesus when she stood at the 
edge of the gathering in the streets and had heard him utter 
those sorrowing words of condemnation upon the unrepent- 
ant; yet the tender and benignant face she had vividly re- 
membered and she recognized it now. Yes, this was Jesus of 


230 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


Nazareth, and never had she seen mien so calm or a presence 
that carried with it such a sense of peace. 

That he had come too late, she knew. That he could give 
back the life that had already flown, she felt to be impossible. 
Yet somehow hope sprang up at once in her heart, and that 
Jairus too had hope was plain. He did nothing but look to 
the man who had listened to his pleading and had come to his 
house in its hour of desolation. But there was gladness in his 
eyes, though he knew that his child was dead. That he knew it, 
Thisoa could not doubt; for Ammihud was one of those who 
had followed him into the house. He had found the bereaved 
father and had told him it was useless to ask for help, for the 
end had come. Even now the physician’s face betrayed the 
same lack of human feeling that he had manifested at the bed- 
side. It was almost an expression of triumph that it wore. 
He himself had failed. They would all soon see that the 
failure had been inevitable and that to look for aid was folly. 

Even so did it seem to the sorrowing relatives and friends. 
The entrance of the master of the house had only made them 
wail the louder and sob more brokenly. They must make 
their grief and sympathy apparent to the father of the life- 
less child. It was what he would expect from them. So to 
him rather than to those who had come in with him their eyes 
were directed. For him their noisy and passionate grief was 
shown. But in the height of it they were startled by a quiet 
yet commanding voice which said, 

“Why make ye this ado and weep? The maid is not dead 
but is asleep.” 

But upon the mourners the presence of Jesus had not made 
the impression it had upon the mind of Thisoa. They had 
scarcely noticed him. He had raised no hopes in them. His 
words only roused their scorn. Without heeding them further _ 
Jesus went into the room where the body of Naomi lay. With 
him went her mother, who had come from within, and Jairus. 
Three men who had followed him and were plainly of his dis- 


PART IJI—THISOA 231 


ciples went in also. No others were allowed to enter. Ammi- 
hud attempted to do so but Jairus motioned him back. In- 
tently Thisoa watched everything that was taking place. 
Intently she observed every look and gesture of this man 
whose power it would now seem was not limited to healing, 
but who did not shrink from the task of giving life back to 
the dead. What calm authority he exercised. Whence came 
it? ‘This son of a humble toiling woman was not a king that 
he should be obeyed. 

In tense expectancy she waited. Presently the door of the 
inner room was opened. Forth from it came Jesus and his 
three followers. No word did he speak. Neither to right nor 
left did he look. In his countenance there was nothing to 
read but that deep serenity that was like a benediction. 
Through the outer door he passed with his faithful three, and 
as he disappeared Thisoa had a strange feeling that some- 
thing higher and purer than the things of earth had gone 
with him. 

But her attention was at once demanded by Naomi’s mother 
who now entered the room with a radiant face. To the vol- 
ley of inquiries that was directed at her she answered joy- 
fully, 

“Yes, she lives. But do not hinder me. Jesus charged me 
to give her something to eat.” 


232 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


VIII 


Our modern age claims much for itself. Its progress has 
been so amazing that it enters with difficulty into the life and 
spirit of the past. By countless inventions we have made liy- 
ing a fine art. How dreary then must existence have been two 
thousand ears ago! Our scientific achievement is so vast that 
Archimedes was a dabbler. The landscape architect makes 
us think lightly of the hanging gardens of Babylon. Awed by 
the sublimity of towering mountains and grand canyons, we 
say that the ancients were blind to scenic beauty. Yet the 
men and women of the old time civilizations had the same 
senses, the same minds and the same emotions that we have 
today. How could they have been insensible to soft vernal 
airs, delicious sunshine, sunset clouds, the fragrant breath of 
morning, and waters mirroring heaven or crested by the gale? 
If the craving for the wild and picturesque is a modern feel- 
ing, nature must yet have had her lovers in the days of old. 
Sophocles was not the only one who delighted in her moods of 
varied beauty. ‘They appealed to myriads; they gave rest | 
and inspiration to the Son of Man. Surely it was not merely 
to lose sense of human turmoil that He sought the mountain 
solitudes to meditate and pray. Those lonely vigils under 
the solemn stars revealed to Him the nearness of the Eternal 
Creative Mind. He felt it in the cooling night wind, in the 
sighing forests, in the grateful veil of darkness and in the 
singing birds that joyfully greeted the dawn. | 

To Thisoa nature had always spoken with a winning voice. 
She loved the flowers; she loved the birds; she loved to see 
hills and valleys glowing in the sunlight or shadowed by pass- 
ing clouds. In her childhood she had lived close to the sea 
and its ‘tumbling waters were an unending joy to her. She 
would clap her hands in delight when the winds made its bil- 
Jows break with a thunderous roar upon the shore. In Ca- 


PART UI—THISOA 233 


pernaum she missed its salty breezes and its misty vastness; 
but the Lake of Galilee offered a charming prospect and she 
never tired of watching the endlessly changing lights upon its 
surface. She could see it from her father’s house; but not 
far away was a quiet spot which commanded its whole expanse 
and to which she loved to resort. An aged olive tree with its 
dull green foliage and its twisted trunk of gleaming gray 
helped to make the spot attractive. It was very old and, in 
rooting itself securely against windy tempests, it had divided 
its big stem into those great clawlike protuberances that seem 
to clutch the earth into which they sink. Between two of 
these Thisoa had found a comfortable resting place; and 
here she would sit in the shade of the protecting foliage and 
read or gaze upon the stretch of water so often swept by 
gusts from the surrounding hills. Often she wondered how 
the tree came there, standing all alone as it did, and how 
many years it had faced the breezes and sunk its roots ever 
deeper into the soil. And it made her think too of the story 
told in her own land, of Athene’s bounty in bestowing this 
priceless gift on the violet crowned city that she loved and 
thereby making the grateful Athenians adopt her as their 
patron deity. 

To this spot Thisoa repaired with Naomi a few days after 
her friend had been miraculously called back from the dead. 
She came in a troubled mood. Ever since that strange mys- 
terious happening her mind had been in a turmoil. One 
question imperiously challenged her through all her waking 
hours. Was Jesus of Nazareth the true leader and deliverer 
of his people? Whenever she was alone she found this prob- 
lem confronting her and refusing to be set aside. Almost did 
she dread to be alone because of this burden to her thoughts. 
So she had welcomed Naomi when she appeared that day, and 
had brought her with her to this favorite resort where she 
would have preferred to be solitary in many of her moods, 


234 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


But she had now a vague unreasoning feeling that a child’s 
wisdom might give light to her sorely buffeted understanding. 

It was all because of Zatthu that her spirit was in such 
turmoil. This man of Nazareth had not claimed her alle- 
giance. Whether or not she should believe in him without 
reserve she did not for her own sake have to decide without 
delay. Yet for Zatthu’s sake she did. She had encouraged 
him to believe that he was to deliver Israel. Jesus, she had 
said to him, was but for a day. ‘‘When generations have 
passed, the mothers of Israel will bless you because their 
babes can breathe the air of freedom.” How vividly those 
words she had spoken on the night of Zatthu’s departure now 
came back to her! And she could not be mistaken. Her 
heart told her insistently, imperiously, that her faith in 
Zatthu could not have been misplaced. And yet Jesus of 
Nazareth was ever assuming a grander and more command- 
ing aspect in her eyes. To open the soul to his teachings and 
his gracious influence might be in itself a joy. But to cast 
Zatthu down and raise Jesus above him — ah, that would 
bring agony of spirit. 

And could the maid of twelve give hee any help in this hour 
of trial? She did not really think it. Yet Naomi was no 
longer the child she had been. She seemed to have brought 
back an awakened understanding from the unknown world 
whose borders she had crossed. Her doll Rachel was her 
favorite playmate no longer. 

“Naomi,” said Thisoa as they sat down under the olive 
tree together, “this is the first chance I have had to talk with 
you since you were sick, and so very, very sick. You know, I 
suppose, how ill you really were.” 

“Yes,” said Naomi, quite soberly. “I was so ill that I died.” 

“How did you know that, Naomi? Just because they told 
your” 
“No. I saw things —lights and faces. But I couldn’t say 
any more about it.” 


PART IlI—THISOA 285 


“Why not, Naomi?” 

“Something tells me that I shouldn’t. When I played with 
Rachel and made her Queen Esther, I used to say to her, ‘You 
are very grand now. You are a queen and you live in a 
palace. But I am just going to peek in and see how splendid 
you are, though I haven’t any right to be in the palace at all.’ 
Now it is just that way about what happened when I died. 
I belong here. I don’t belong over there where we all go when 
we die. I just peeked in and I don’t feel as if I had any right 
to talk about what I saw. And I really didn’t see very much. 
You know I was dead only just a little while.” 

“Only a little while, dear Naomi, but long enough to make 
us very sad. We should have missed you so if you had not 
come back to us.” 

‘And I should have missed you and mother and father. 
TI am sure Jehovah would have taken good care of me and sent 
some very dear angels to look after me. But I don’t see how 
they could have been as dear as mother and father and you.” 

“YT suppose they have told you how it was that you did 
come back to us.” 

“Oh, I didn’t need to be told. I knew. I heard some one 
call to me and tell me to rise, and I had to doit. It wasn’t 
easy. I had hard work to open my eyes. But I did so, and 
I saw a man standing by my bed and looking at me. And oh, 
such a beautiful face he had! Do you know, it was like the 
faces I saw when I was dead! I haven’t said that to any one 
else, but I don’t see how there can be any harm in my telling 
it to you.” 

“No harm at all, I am sure. But why was the face at your 
bedside like the faces you saw when you went away from us?” 

‘Because it was very kind — and yet it wasn’t only that. 
T don’t think I could really tell you just why.” 

“You know who it was that brought you back to us?” 

“Oh, yes. It was Jesus of Nazareth.” 

‘Don’t you want to see him again?” 


236 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“More than any thing else in the world. One who can do 
the wonderful things he does wouldn’t want a little girl lke 
me to trouble him. But if I should see him, I should run and 
kneel down before him and say, ‘O Jesus, it was very good of 
you to give me back to my mother and father and I thank 
you with all my heart.’ ” 

“T am sure that wouldn’t trouble him, Naomi. It would 
please him. Didn’t he gladly take the trouble to come to your 
father’s house and bring you back to life? But why should 
you kneel down to him?” 

“Why, I just couldn’t help it. He is so wonderful. You 
know I shouldn’t be talking with you here now if it hadn’t 
been for him.” 

“Don’t your people think it is wrong to kneel to any one 
but Jehovah?” 

“Yes. Mother has taught me that.” 

“You don’t think he is Jehovah, do you?” 

“TY don’t see how he could be. Perhaps it would be wrong 
to kneel to him. But I don’t believe I could help it if I saw 
him.” 

Thisoa ceased questioning and looked out on the gleaming 
waters. Naomi’s talk affected her strangely. What weight 
ought she to give to these impressions of a mere child? A 
mere child! She looked at the little girl as she thus charac- 
terized her in her thought; and as she did so a strange sen- 
tence in the Hebrew prophecies flashed into her mind. “And 
a little child shall lead them.” And then there came to her 
the ‘recollection of what Jesus’ mother had told about his 
childhood. Did knowledge come to the minds of children 
which their elders did not understand? If so, did it come 
because the child mind was simple and given to reverence like 
that of her little friend Naomi? She wondered. She asked 
herself if the sharp conflict in her mind ought not to have 
some easy and natural ending. Perhaps hard thinking wasn’t 
always the best way to find the truth. She was tormenting 


PART II—THISOA 237 


herself by her fierce persistent struggle to form a clear just 
judgment. Would it sometime form itself as simply as 
Naomi’s feeling that she must kneel to the man of Nazareth? 

While she still wondered and questioned, she heard Naomi 
speak and for the time being dismissed this puzzling querying 
from her mind. It was a relief to be called back from brood- 
ing and speculation to the things of the moment. 

“Thisoa, have I been a trouble to you?” inquired Naomi. 
“You have not looked at me or spoken to me for some time.” 

“No, Naomi dear. You have been a help and comfort to 
me. But let us go home now. We have talked enough for 
one morning.” 

They left the lakeside and Thisoa sought her own home 
after first accompanying Naomi to hers. But she did not dis- 
miss from her thoughts what the child had said. The ques- 
tioning mood returned and she could not banish it. When 
night came it still followed her, and after all others in the 
house were asleep she wandered into the garden enclosure and 
stood at the very spot where Zatthu had been so effectively 
concealed. ‘The stars were dim for the sky was partially 
overcast. Looking up at them, she felt that their misty light 
was but a symbol of her own sorely vexed and groping mind. 
All the light she saw was uncertain and faint. Yearning, » 
passionate, stricken with a sense of her own helplessness, she 
threw herself on her knees and stretched out her hands to the 
veiled and cloudy sky. 

“OQ Thou,” she cried, “who didst make the stars and all 
who live under them, hearken to one who is wandering in a 
wilderness and can find no help, no guide. Whether thy name 
be Jehovah or a name too great and high for men to know, 
be Thou the friend of all those Thou hast created and be 
Thou merciful to me. Give light to me in my darkness and 
give strength to him who would set thy chosen people free. 
Wherever he is tonight, be near him and put courage in his 
heart. If he is needy, minister to him. If he is sick, give 


238. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


him healing. If he has no shelter, make the winds and the 
night dews kind to him. And if his spirit is fainting, lift it 
up and make him know that his cause is righteous in thine 
eyes and Thou wilt not let it fail.” 

Comforted by this appeal and feeling that, even though 
she knew not how, it must have been heard, she sought repose. 
But it was not at once that sleep came to her. 


PART III—THISOA 239 


IX 


‘'Thisoa, would you like to go with me to Nazareth?” 

Such was the unlooked for question Naarah put to her 
friend a few days after the talk with Naomi by the lakeside. 
Thisoa was at Naarah’s house. Almost every day she went 
there to find relief from her own restlessness. Naarah’s warm 
steady affection and ready sympathy gave her cheer and 
comfort. 

“To Nazareth?” said Thisoa. “Then you are going to see 
your grandfather, Eliud Merari.” 

“Yes. It is some three months since I have visited him. I 
know he is longing to see me.” 

“And Nazareth is the place where Jesus had his home. 
Yes, I should be glad to go with you to Nazareth. But you 
have been there again and again. Why have you never asked 
ine before?” 

“Every thing has to have a beginning,” replied Naarah 
with an odd look. 

“True. But why does this particular beginning come at 
this particular time?” 

“T thought you might like to see and know my grandfather. 
You have become interested in our Sacred Books and no one 
knows them better than he. And then Nazareth is right 
among the hills of Galilee. Perhaps we may hear something 
of Zatthu; and both of us, you know, would be very glad to 
learn if his plans are making any headwaly.” 

It did not escape Naarah’s notice that Thisoa flushed a 
little at the mention of Zatthu; but the answer that came 
betrayed no eagerness or perturbation. 

“Both reasons are good. You have well justified that be- 
ginning you have made. When do you go?” 

“Tomorrow. The journey takes only one day. We shall 


stop three days and then return.” 


/ 


240 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“Tomorrow. I shall be ready tomorrow. I would start 
today if you wished it.” 

“It is arranged for tomorrow. There will be quite a little 
company. Marcus sends three or four soldiers to protect me. 
I laugh at him for it, but he won’t let me go without them.” 

“How old is your grandfather, Naarah?” 

“He is eighty-three.” 

“And well?” 

“fA little broken. My marriage with Marcus hurt him. He 
approved of it heartily. But the fact that he allowed it made 
him lose influence with men who are, like himself, learned in 
the Law.” | 

“But your people have not turned from you, and your 
happiness must have been a comfort to him.” 

“A very great comfort, but for all that his pride has been 
wounded. No, my people have turned from me very little. 
That is due to Marcus. He has treated them wisely and 
generously and they think it a wonderful triumph that he, a 
Roman officer, should have adopted our faith. But my 
grandfather would never live with Marcus and me because he 
was afraid the Hebrews here in Capernaum might hold aloof 
from me more than they do if he did so. He reasoned that his 
presence here would rouse their animosity, because they would 
blame him for my marriage, knowing he could have stopped 
it if he had chosen.” 

“Could he have stopped it, Naarah?” 

*““Now there speaks the youthful generous mind that be- 
lieves that no power on earth should keep apart two who 
truly love each other. It is a beautiful thought. Cling to it, 
Thisoa dear. May you never have to give it up.” 

“But you haven’t answered my question.” 

“No, and I didn’t mean to; yet I will. I could not have 
married Marcus if my grandfather had been opposed to it. 
I owed him too much to hurt or wound him. But, oh! no one 
was ever so happy as I was when I found he really wished it 


PART III—THISOA 241 


to be. He said it was Jehovah’s will and he could not but 
acquiesce.” 

The next day the two set out for Nazareth with the escort 
Marcus insisted on providing. ‘The six stalwart soldiers who 
made their bodyguard were on foot. Naarah after the custom 
of the country, rode upon an ass; but Thisoa was mounted 
upon a spirited horse which with difficulty she held back to 
the slow pace of the ass and the foot soldiers.- When she was 
a young girl her fathershad for reasons of trade spent two 
successive summers in Macedonia with his wife and daughter. 
There horses were plentiful and there she had learned to be a 
thoroughly fearless rider. Since that time she had had scant 
opportunity to gratify her love of horsemanship, but the love 
remained. She knew no keener pleasure than that of mount- 
ing and controlling a mettlesome steed. 

They made a very early start, for the break of day found 
them setting forth upon their journey. Naarah had said 
they could make Nazareth in a single day, but to do this they 
had to be many hours upon the road. Nazareth was not more 
than twenty miles from Capernaum; but the detours made 
necessary to the traveller by the windings of the road along 
the lakeside and among the hills made the journey one little 
short of thirty miles. 

A pleasant journey it was however, as it lay through a 
pleasant country. It was an early day in Bul, much the same 
as November in the Roman calendar, on which the two friends 
and their escort started. The early rains had cleared the 
air; and as they were favored with a cloudless sky, they 
could enjoy the clear outlines of the hills and the sunshine 
that flooded the lake and the whole surrounding country. 

For a number of miles — nearly half of the whole distance 
they were to cover — the road skirted the Lake of Galilee, 
on whose gleaming surface were to be seen the sails of numer- 
ous fishing boats and small vessels of\merchandise that plied 
between the cities on the shore. An hour before noon they 


242 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


reached the city of Tiberias and here they turned away from 
the lake and faced the line of hills upon its western border. 
Upward their way wound now until it carried them through 
a cleft between two spurs of the ridge and brought them down | 
into one of the reaches of the beautiful valley of EKsdraelon. 

Here, by the clear cool waters of a brook, they found an 
inviting grove of plane trees and willows and took a midday 
rest. The sun’s rays had become oppressive and for five full 
hours they had steadily pursued their way. 

Duly refreshed they started on again when the sun. was 
lower, and now for a time they passed through fertile low- 
lands where the sturdy peasants were sowing the fields just 
ploughed after being softened by the autumn rains. Again, 
as they began to climb once more, they found themselves 
among olive groves and saw the gatherers busily at work. 

More rugged grew the ascent and after a time they reached 
high ground which commanded a wide sweep of the surround- 
ing country. And the scene was a goodly one. Even without 
its associations it might well fascinate the beholder’s eye. 
Below was the whole expanse of the plains of Esdraelon. 
Through the openings in the hills made by the water courses 
the low-lying Jordan valley, though not the river itself, could 
be descried. Near and far mountain peaks grew visible — 
Hermon, the mightiest of them, capped with snow. 

‘All this is wonderfully fair to look upon,” said Thisoa; 
“but Iam a Greek girl and all that I see in the prospect is its 
beauty. To you, Naarah, no doubt it shows that which thrills 
you as I was once thrilled, when I stood with my father on 
the Acropolis at Athens and looked down on the Straits of 
Salamis where my countrymen routed the stately Persian 
fleet.” 

“Yes,” answered Naarah. ‘I see places which tell of my 
people’s past. That wooded mountain range to the south- 
west is Carmel, where Elijah, one of our greatest prophets, 
had his home and wrought many wondrous things. From the 


PART [l1I—THISOA 243 


slopes of Tabor, that rounded summit not far to the south- 
east of us, Barak, at Deborah’s bidding, went down with his 
ten thousand to lay low the hosts of Sisera. To the right of 
it, but much farther distant, is Mount Gilboa, where our great 
King Saul and his sons were slain fighting the Philistines. 
That which moves me most however is the Jordan valley. 
Even though I cannot discern the river itself, I love to think 
how its waters divided to let our sacred Ark pass through 
and stood like a wall till God bade them flow again. Truly 
there is no God but Jehovah.” 

Naarah seemed to lose all thought of her friend as her 
mind dwelt upon the older days and the miracles then wrought. 
And Thisoa too found her own mood a contemplative one. 

‘The waters stood as a wall till God bade them flow again,” 
she repeated slowly. “Believing things like that, no wonder 
Zatthu thinks the Jehovah he worships will work wonders 
once again for His own people. But will He? Ah, if one 
could but feel sure!” 


244 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


xX 

Continuing on their way they passed through Cana with- 
out knowing of the miracle that had been wrought there, and 
late in the afternoon they got sight of Nazareth. It was just 
before sundown that they drew near to the house where 
Naarah’s grandfather lived with his niece Rebekah. 

Merari saw them coming. He was enjoying the genial 
autumn sunshine on the housetop which has ever served as 
porch or piazza in oriental lands. His eye was not dim 
though his natural strength was abated. He recognized Naa- 
rah when she was still distant, rose and held out his arms 
prayerfully as if his welcome were a blessing. Venerable and 
majestic, he seemed almost transfigured by the sunlight that 
fell full upon his face; and this first glimpse of him always 
lingered in Thisoa’s memory. As her eye rested upon him 
she could not but think of the patriarchs and prophets who 
figure so grandly in the Hebrew story. 

When they all arrived at the house, the soldiers took 
charge of the two beasts of burden and made their way to an 
inn that was maintained in the village. Merari, who had 
come below, then greeted Naarah with a warmth that touched 
Thisoa deeply. Long he held her in his arms and fondled her 
as if she were a child, stroking her hair caressingly and say- 
ing over and over again that Jehovah was very good to him 
to let him see her once more. How much he had sacrificed in 
living away from her, Thisoa could not but realize. 

“And the little ones,” he presently said, “are they both 
well?” 

“As healthy and well as ever children were, dear grand- 
father.” 

“Yet you never get through a night without getting up to 
look after them, I am sure.” 

“Perhaps not many nights, grandfather.” 


PART III—THISOA 245 


“You would not be like your mother were it otherwise. 
She was a good woman and a devoted mother. And Marcus 
too is well?” 

“Quite well and still the best husband in all the world.” 

“For that, praise be to Jehovah. He guided me rightly 
when I gave you to him, Roman though he was. Here in my 
own country that act has cost me much. But no matter! No 
matter! I have my reward a hundred fold in your happiness. 

“But whom have we here?” he inquired, now giving his 
attention to Thisoa. “Oid though I am, I should be cour- 
teous. This gracious lady will pardon me, I am sure, if in 
my eagerness to hear of those who are dearest to me, I ignored 
her for a moment.” 

Thisoa frankly met the old man’s kindly gaze. Too daunt- 
less of spirit to be abashed in any presence, she yet had a feel- 
ing of awe as she faced this noble and imposing figure. She 
had never seen any one like him before in her own or in any 
other land. The years seemed to have weighted him with dig- 
nity and honor. Here surely was one whose every word had 
been true, whose every action worthy, whose every thought 
unsoiled. And in the instant it flashed upon her that just 
once she had looked into a face that had filled her with even 
a deeper reverence and wonder. When the carpenter’s son 
had entered the house of the stricken Jairus, she had then 
caught such an expression of tenderness, and yet of majesty 
too, that her very soul was moved. Was this man, whose 
whole being spoke nobility, like Jesus of Nazareth? 

Her mind filled with such thoughts, she had not her usual 
serenity and self-possession as Merari turned to her and 
greeted her. She acknowledged his courtesy only by a smile 
and a slight obeisance, but Naarah spoke for her and said, 

“This is my very dear friend Thisoa, the daughter of the 
Greek merchant Aristarchus. Next\to you and Marcus and 
the children she is the one I care for most. And that is enough 
to make you care for her too, is it not, dear grandfather?” 


246 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


‘Enough and more than enough,” replied Merari going with 
slow and stately step to Thisoa and clasping her hand warmly 
in both his own. “Any friend of my granddaughter’s is a 
friend of mine. But even without such recommendation you 
would be welcome. The laws of hospitality are sacred, and 
do not our revered Commandments bid us apply them to the 
stranger that is within our gates?” 

Thisoa could not speak for a moment. So touched was she 
by the old man’s graciousness that she felt lke kneeling at 
his feet and asking for a blessing. For his long flowing beard 
and his hair, abundant though snowy white, seemed to call 
for homage rather than to betoken feebleness; his tall com- 
manding figure was slightly bent, but his step was firm; and 
his eyes had lost none of their lustre. 

Profoundly moved, Thisoa made the deepest obeisance she 
could without actually kneeling. Then she stood erect and 
looked into the eyes that were gazing at her with a rare light 
of kindliness. 

“You do me great honor,” she said. ‘You have lived long; 
you have studied deeply; you have won the esteem of the best 
and the wisest men. It is more than kind of you to call an 
ignorant maid like me a friend.” 

“You say truly that I have lived long. I am avery old man 
and this is the best lesson my years have taught me — that 
the truest wisdom comes from a pure and loving heart.” 

“Yet you will teach me, will you not? There are things 
that Naarah and I would so gladly learn of you.” 

“All that I know is yours. But I know so little. Jehovah 
has humbled me and I thank him for it.” 

The next day came a conference, if conference it could be 
called, in which Naarah and Thisoa drew from the old man 
his most deeply cherished and sacred convictions. Freely 
did he give them. He was as humble as a child. He would 
have listened to Naarah or to Thisoa with entire respect. If 
either of them had differed with him, he would have said at 


PART II—THISOA 247 


once that his mind was weakened by old age and that very 
likely he was wrong. And as he talked on Thisoa saw that 
Naarah had been correct in saying he was a little broken. 
The garb of mortality, though far from outworn, seemed to 
be growing thin and almost transparent. Looking away from 
men and all their engrossing activities, he saw with ever 
clearer vision the things beyond the veil. For the veil was 
no longer thick and obscuring. He was seeing through it. 
and beyond it into eternity. 

It was he however that opened the way to the very out- 
pouring of thought for which Naarah and Thisoa longed. 

‘What is it that you wish to learn from me?” he inquired 
of Thisoa in a very gentle voice. 

““We were wondering,” she said, “if you had met or heard 
of a man named Zatthu who hopes to free your nation from 
the Romans. Naarah and I both saw him in Capernaum 
where he was a guest in my father’s house. We are both much 
interested in his plan and hope very earnestly for his success.” 

“He was a guest in your father’s house and your father a 
Greek merchant?” 

“Yes, and he was in great peril there. With difficulty he 
escaped from the Romans, but anxious though we have been 
to know how he has fared, we have had no word from him 
since.” 

“Your father was generous to give him shelter. Yes, I 
have seen him. He has been in Nazareth. More than once 
he came and spent an hour with me.” 

“And told you of all the great things he would do for 
Israel?” Naarah asked. 

“Yes. That was his theme.” 

“And could you believe in him? Could you give him support 
and encouragement?” inquired Thisoa eagerly. 

“Tt is Jehovah’s aid that he seeks, not mine.” 

“No, yours,” replied Naarah; “yours-above that of every 
one. You have studied our Books so deeply. You know them 


248 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


so well. Do they not give countenance to his great faith in 
Jehovah? Could you not tell him so?” 

The words that Merari now uttered did not seem to come 
as a direct answer to Naarah’s eager question. ‘The ancient 
prophecies he knew by heart. It was in their language that 
he now began to speak upon the future of his people and upon 
those who were scheming or working for their welfare. It 
was as a seer with open vision that he spoke. Not gropingly, 
but quickly and instinctively he found the words that voiced 
his inward feeling. From the rich and glowing imagery of 
the Psalms or from Isaiah’s sublime phrases he selected them 
as if he were inspired; and they were poured from his lips 
like prophetic annunciations over which he had no control. 
Sometimes he spoke them with kindling eye and in thrilling 
tones; sometimes with simple, grave solemnity, as even now 
he said, 

“Let Israel hope in Jehovah; for with Jehovah there is 
mercy and with Him there is plenteous redemption.” 

‘And that is exactly what Zatthu thinks,” exclaimed Naa- 
rah. ‘He believes it is only because Israel does not turn to 
Jehovah that He allows her to be trodden under the foot of 
Rome.” 

“Thus saith Jehovah,” continued Merari in the same quiet 
and solemn tones, “Let not the wise man glory in his 
wisdom.” 

“Then you think Zatthu is perhaps too confident? That 
he lets himself believe his own burning hope is really Jeho- 
vah’s voice?” 

Merari shook his head sadly and replied, 

“We wait for light, but behold obscurity; for brightness, 
but we walk in darkness. We grope for the wall like the 
blind, and we grope as if we had no eyes; we stumble at noon- 
day as in the night; we are in desolate places as dead men.” 

Thisoa’s heart sank within her as these words were said. 
There was a dismaying finality in them. Vainly did her pas- 


PART III—THISOA 249 


sionate longing for Zatthu’s triumph make her say to herself 
that these were but the outpourings of an aged and broken 
mind. Merari’s intellect was not clouded. His very nearness 
to the immortal country seemed to give him the open vision. 
The words that fell from such lips almost carried conviction. 

Thisoa’s feelings were largely shared by Naarah. The two 
sat in silence for a time and Merari seemed lost in thought. 
Then Naarah said, 

“That verse you quoted from the Psalms tells us that with 
_ Jehovah there is mercy and plenteous redemption. Will He 
never redeem Israel?” 

“Break forth into joy, sing together, ye waste places of 
Jerusalem; for Jehovah hath comforted his people, he hath 
redeemed Jerusalem. Jehovah hath made bare His holy arm 
in the eyes of all the nations; and all the ends of the earth 
shall see the salvation of our God.” 

“Ah, but when shall this be?” exclaimed Naarah. “Our 
people have waited so long.” 

‘And who,” said Thisoa, “is to rise up and work their 
deliverance if not Zatthu?” 

“Behold,” was the answer, “a king shall reign in righteous- 
ness and princes shall rule in judgment, and a man shall be 
as an hiding-place from the wind and a covert from the tem- 
pest; as rivers of water in a dry place, as the shadow of a 
great rock in a weary land.” 

“But who,” pursued Thisoa, “will be this man, and how 
shall he be known? Surely that mild healer from this very 
Nazareth of yours cannot accomplish this great and wonder- 
ful thing. Surely it is not in him to lift a nation up from 
bondage into liberty and strength.” 

“Do you mean Jesus?” 

“Yes, Jesus the carpenter’s son.” 

At the name a strange and far-off look came into Merari’s 
eyes. He was as one seeing a vision, and in seeing it he was 
filled with prophetic fire. Those haunting mysterious utter- 


250 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


ances of the ancient seers now revealed to him their glorious 
meaning. A great light flooded his spirit. He was rapt, and 
he spoke as if an angel had loosened his tongue and opened 
his eyes to see beyond the obscurities of sense and time. 

“Behold,” he began, “my servant whom I uphold; mine 
elect in whom my soul delighteth. I have put my spirit upon 
him; he shall bring forth judgment to the Gentiles. He shall 
not cry nor lift up, nor cause his voice to be heard in the 
street. A bruised reed shall he not break, and the smoking 
flax shall he not quench; he shall bring forth judgment unto 
truth. 

‘*And there shall come forth a rod out of the stem of Jesse, 
and a Branch shall grow out of his roots; and the spirit of 
Jehovah shall rest upon him, the spirit of wisdom and under- 
standing, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowl- 
edge and of the fear of Jehovah.” 

And then it seemed as if the vision took a sombre shape, 
for his face clouded a little and it was with awed and subdued 
tones that he continued, 

“Who is this that cometh from Edom, with dyed garments 
from Bosrah? This that is glorious in his apparel, travelling 
in the greatness of his strength? I that speak in righteous- 
ness, mighty to save. 

‘‘Wherefore art thou red in thine apparel and thy gar- 
ments like him that treadeth in the winefat? I have trodden 
the winepress alone; and of the people there was none with 
me; for I will tread them in mine anger and trample them in 
my fury; and their blood shall be sprinkled upon my gar- 
ments, and I will stain all my raiment. 

‘He hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see 
him, there is no beauty that we should desire him. He 
is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows and 
acquainted with grief; and we hid as it were our faces from 
him; he was despised and we esteemed him not. Surely he 
hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we did 


PART III—THISOA 251 


esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he 
was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our 
iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and 
with his stripes we are healed.” 

And here the cloud passed. The face brightened; the 
voice grew exultant; the old man was lifted into ecstasy by 
the glories now revealed. 

‘Arise, shine,” he cried triumphantly, “for thy lght is 
come and the glory of Jehovah is risen upon thee. For be- 
hold, darkness shall cover the earth and gross darkness the 
people; but Jehovah shall rise upon thee, and his glory shall 
be seen upon thee. And the Gentiles shall come to thy light 
and kings to the brightness of thy rising. 

‘And they shall build up the wastes, they shall raise up the 
former desolations, and they shall repair the waste cities, the 
desolations of many generations. 

“And the ransomed of Jehovah shall return and come to 
Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads; they 
shall obtain joy and gladness and sorrow and sighing shall 
flee away. 

“The earth shall be full of the knowledge of Jehovah, as 
the waters cover the sea.” 

Merari ceased. The light faded slowly from his face and 
a look of weariness came over it. The uplift of the spirit had 
taxed the worn aged body. His eyes closed and he sank into 
a gentle peaceful slumber. For some time he slept while 
Naarah and Thisoa sat in silence. By looks which they 
exchanged they showed to each other how powerfully they 
had been swayed by the old man’s prophetic mood and by the 
borrowed words which had flowed as freely and aptly from his 
tongue as if he himself and not Isaiah had been inspired to 
utter them. They had indeed no wish to speak. Merari had 
given them deep questions to ponder over. In Naarah’s mind 
there was the wondering query how the shackles that galled 
her people could be broken by the carpenter’s son. To Thisoa 


252 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


the question took inevitably a painfully personal shape. If 
Jesus was to be Israel’s redeemer, what of Zatthu? Was he 
to become broken-hearted in pushing a hopeless cause? 

To neither questioner did any full light come. Speech 
therefore became necessary after they had brooded for a 
time over their perplexing problems. In low tones they 
talked while Merari slumbered on. Soon after sundown he 
awoke and all went below. 


PART III—THISOA 258 


XI 


The following day found Merari in a very quiet mood. He 
was little inclined to talk. Naarah ventured to ask him if 
those words he had poured forth from the ancient prophecies 
really expressed his sober convictions; but his answer came 
briefiy and reluctantly. 

“It is hardly for me to say,” was his reply. “Jehovah 
surely spoke through me then. The words must be true. 
How true and when, let the future show.”’ 

‘You saw Jesus when he lived here, did you not?” asked 
Thisoa. 

‘Yes, many times.” 

SAS you talked with him did he seem to you like a king who 
was to reign?” 

‘When Samuel saw the sons of Jesse he would have anointed 
Eliab; but it was David of whom Jehovah said, ‘Arise, anoint 
him: for this is he.’ ” 

They felt that nothing would come of further questioning. 
The old man had given them his best wisdom. Like him they 
must let the future show its worth. 

The day after they wended their way back to Capernaum. 
Again they travelled under a cloudless sky, and the valley of 
Esdraelon was as fair as ever; but its beauty did not now 
strongly appeal to them. Almost did the light that rested on 
meadows, hills and streams seem pale, as of a sun in partial 
eclipse. Their eyes were not free to see because their minds 
were full and their interests were deeply and absorbingly 
human. Still were they brooding over the sublime and thrill- 
ing words which Merari had poured forth when the spirit of 
prophecy had been roused in him. So the two conversed 
sparingly and quietly as they journeyed homeward. 

Not sorry were they when their eyes were again greeted 
by the blue waters of Galilee. They were still many miles 


99 


254 ZATTHOU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


from Capernaum, but it spoke to them of home. Not a few 
sails were to be seen upon it. How freely and joyously they 
seemed to move! The sight broke for a moment the spell that 
had rested upon them. | 

“Look, Thisoa!” cried Naarah. “How gracefully those 
vessels glide along! Does it seem as if they could ever be the 
sport of the winds and struggle frantically with angry tower- 
ing waves?” 

“Ts there anything that isn’t seeming?” answered Thisoa. 
“Change, change, change! Calm and then storm! Sunshine 
and then cloud! Hope and then disappointment! Joy and 
then sorrow! Youth and then old age! Life and then death! 
What is stable? What is lasting?” 

“Love.” 

“How do you know?” 

“My heart tells me so. Yours will sometime say the same.” 

Alas! this was the message Thisoa’s heart wished to whis- 
per to her, but it could not do so. The deep longing that was 
in it had not been fed. The thrill of joy it coveted never came. 
When Naarah had suggested that their journey to Nazareth 
might bring them tidings of Zatthu, Thisoa could not help 
hoping that it might be so; and at Merari’s house she had 
indeed got word of him, but a meagre and unsatisfying word 
it had been. So it was not without a sinking of heart that 
she had set forth on the homeward journey. She was turning 
away from the hills into which Zatthu had fled for refuge and 
in the fastnesses of which he might even then be concealed. 
Perhaps he had been pursuing his end while they were there. 
But she could discover nothing. She could only go down to 
her home by the lakeside while he and his doings were wrapped 
inmystery. But it was to him as much as to the utterances of 
Merari that her thoughts had been turning as they followed 
the winding road that led down to Tiberias and then on by 
the border of the lake. 

Naturally she did not find it in her to comment on Naarah’s 


PART UI—THISOA 255 


answer to her own question. So they rode on again in silence 
till they found themselves nearing their own homes. 

“You have given me great pleasure, Naarah,” said Thisoa, 
as the time came for them to part. “Your patriarchs and 
prophets must have been men like your grandfather. I shall 
think of him often.” 

“TY am sure they were. I have revered him all my life, and 
more than ever now, when he seems almost to be looking into 
the world beyond.” 

Gladly, and yet with the spell of wonder and brooding still 
upon her, Thisoa approached her home. As she entered it a 
wild hope, prompted by mere longing sprang up in her heart, 
that in her absence some news of Zatthu might have come. 
Perhaps he himself was there and waiting to tell her his won- 
drous and exciting story. But the moment she saw her 
mother hope was shattered. Calmly, though with deep affec- 
tion, Xenodice greeted her and as if nothing of interest had 
happened in Capernaum, and inquired eagerly about the aged 
Hebrew of whom she had so often heard. So Thisoa related 
her experiences with all the zest she could, though somehow 
they seemed strangely without interest to her now. 


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THE BROKEN HOPE 


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PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 259 


I 


With a deep joy in his heart Zatthu had joined Kelita and 
Shobek on the night of his escape from the house of Aris- 
tarchus and had fled under cover of the darkness. When morn- 
ing broke he was safe in the hills that look down on the Lake 
of Galilee. 

Yes, joy was in his heart. Jehovah had not forsaken him. 
Aliens had sheltered and cared for him even as the woman of 
Zarephath had nurtured Elijah. He was sure the meeting with 
the Greek merchant was divinely planned. How wonderful 
were the ways of the God of Israel! How glorious a thing it 
was to serve Him! And that he, Zatthu, should be called to 
this august and holy service of lifting the yoke of Israel! Yet 
doubtless he was called. Every thing that had happened 
since he was cast into prison at Cesarea made him sure that 
it was so. 

A little before sunrise Zatthu and his two comrades reached 
a rocky elevation that commanded the lake. Across its wa- 
ters, which were already beginning to gleam in the growing 
light, they looked eastward to the hills of Gaulanitis. Above 
their rugged heights the sky soon reddened. The lake imme- 
diately caught the hue and grew crimson as the sun neared 
the horizon. The whole east was now aflame and the few thin 
vapory clouds that floated above the mountains but deepened 
the fiery glow. And in a few moments the sun itself, not with 
the blaze of noonday but with dimmed and curtained splendor 
that was in keeping with the hush of morning, climbed into 
sight. | 

“Behold it,” cried Zatthu stretching forth his arms. “It 
is even like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber and it 
rejoices like a strong man to run a race. And even so our own 
race shall be run. Let us be as unwearied as the sun and let 
us see in this glorious sight Jehovah’s promise that our cause 


260 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


is not to fail. When the hour to strike is come, He will in His 
own way make it known and the news will flash over all Judza 
even as the light of the dawn has just overspread the sky. 
Hope, hope, hope! I see boundless hope in this flaming east 
that has sent its rays to the farthest dwellings of men. Let 
us go on our way with stout and rejoicing hearts. The end 
is sure.” 

With a feeling of elation they took a last look at the lake 
from which the red glow was rapidly fading and then plunged 
into a ravine that hid it from view. Coming soon to a hut 
that was plainly inhabited, they stopped. ‘The sight of it 
brought a sense of hunger. While their minds were busy they 
had not thought of the body. Now they suddenly realized 
that it was many hours since they had eaten. 

The hut was rude but it suggested comfort. It was staunch 
enough to resist wind and rain. Close to it were a shed for 
cattle and a sheepfold in which several sheep were to be seen. 
Within there ought to be enough for three hungry wayfarers. 
Zatthu went up to the door and knocked. 

Shuffling steps were presently heard approaching it from 
within. It was partially opened and a woman of middle age 
looked questioningly at them. Her face was wrinkled and 
browned. Her hair was gray. Her figure had the stoop that 
is given by steady toil. In a bewildered way she gazed from 
one of them to another, but after a moment or two her eyes 
became fixed on Zatthu. She opened the door wide, stared 
at him intently, and as she did so an eager hopeful look came 
into her face. So curious was her manner that they waited 
for her to speak. She did so and said eagerly, 

“Are you Jesus of Nazareth?” 

“No,” replied Zatthu, startled and far from pleased. “But 
why do you ask?” 

“Because my husband is bed-ridden and I was hoping you 
could cure him. Oh, don’t you believe you could? Just come 
inside and look at him.” 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 261 


Not knowing how to refuse, Zatthu stepped inside and 
Kelita and Shobek followed him. They found themselves in 
a long dimly lighted room which was plainly the whole inte- 
rior of the lowly dwelling. It contained everything the daily 
wants of its humble occupants required. 

At one end of it was a rude bed toward which the woman 
went, looking round beseechingly as she did so. Zatthu fol- 
lowed her. Somewhat doubtfully Kelita and Shobek did like- 
wise, though keeping a little distance behind. As they drew 
near the bed they made out a form beneath the clothes and a 
head of thick matted gray hair, which, tangled and dis- 
arranged as it was, almost covered two bright eyes that gazed 
searchingly at them. 

“There,” said the woman, as she and Zatthu stood close 
beside the bed, “just look at him. He got wet through one 
cold day when he was hunting for a sheep that had strayed 
and he’s been like this ever since. Three years ago that was, 
and he’s had a dreadful lot of pain. It’s hard on me too; for 
you see I have to look after the sheep and the two cows and 
take care of him besides. My brother’s boy comes twice be- 
tween every two Sabbaths to help me, or I wouldn’t get along 
at all. Oh, couldn’t you lay your hands on him and say a 
word and make him well?” 

“Yes,” said the man gazing up with a piteous entreating 
look. ‘Do heal me! I have been lying here so long, so long. 
I suffer so much and it hurts me to see my wife work so hard 
and I not able to lift a finger to help her.” 

In spite of himself Zatthu was moved. In spite of himself, 
because he was deeply annoyed at being mistaken for the man 
of Nazareth. Was it always to be thus? Was his path ever 
to be haunted by this son of a carpenter? But he controlled 
his indignation, looked pityingly at the man and said, 

“Gladly would I help you if I could; but to heal those who 
are stricken is not in my power.” 


262 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“But Jesus of Nazareth heals,” said the woman. “Why 
couldn’t your” 

“How do you know he heals?” 

“Oh, they all say he does. They are all running after him, 
you know. And then he cured my cousin Amariah’s wife of 
the palsy. ‘They live over on the other side of the hills, not 
very far from Capernaum. One day Jesus drew near. The 
people gathered about him and he spoke to them and cured 
all those who were ailing. My cousin heard of it. He half 
led and half carried his wife to the spot. Mightily afraid he 
was when he got there that Jesus wouldn’t see them, the people 
were all crowding so thick about him. He was just going to 
cry out so as to be noticed, when Jesus made the people stand 
aside and came and laid his hand on the poor palsied woman. 
You see, he knew somehow that she was there and needed help, 
and the help came. The moment he touched her, she knew 
she was well. And she was — just as well as you and I are. 
She told me all this herself; so I know.” 

The woman stopped speaking. She had been gazing in- 
tently into Zatthu’s face all the time, and she realized after a 
while that he was not hearing her. It was true. The main 
fact told, he did not care for the details of the story. His 
mind was occupied by his own brooding resentment. 

“Don’t you believe what I say?” inquired the woman after 
a moment’s pause. 

“T am not of those who run after Jesus of Nazareth,” was 
the reply. “I believe he is a menace to our nation.” 

Then he turned to Kelita and Shobek and said quickly be- 
fore the woman could speak again, 

“T think we would best be going. At some other place we 
will find what we are seeking.” 

While the woman stood wondering, he walked rapidly to 
the door and out into the open. Kelita and Shobek were close 
behind him. Silently they continued on their way through 
the ravine. Zatthu walked dejectedly, looking neither to 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 263 


right nor left. Already the hope that had been kindled by 
the red glow of the sunrise had been dimmed. 

They came to another peasant’s dwelling ere a half hour 
had passed, and here they found the refreshment they de- 
sired. But Zatthu ate mechanically. He had lost his crav- 
ing for food. 


264 ZATTHO—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


II 


The next day the three adventurers — for such they may 
be called — reached Nazareth without meeting with any note- 
worthy experiences. They had proceeded slowly. They had 
studied and talked with people as they fell in with them. At 
Cana they had stopped for half a day and watched and ob- 
served. Was the temper that they found hostile to Rome? 
Would it kindle at the thought of driving this proud enemy 
out of the land? It hardly seemed so. Yet no searching 
tests were made. Zatthu did not pursue the quest with ardor. 
A cloud seemed to be upon his spirit. The plea of the bed- 
ridden shepherd and his wife was still chilling his enthusiasm. 

He sought Nazareth because it had been the home of this 
carpenter’s son who had become to him a stumbling block. 
Here Jesus had lived long. Here he could find out how this 
strange healer was regarded by those who knew him well. 
Surely the people of his own village could estimate him at his 
proper worth. 

That they viewed Jesus with unfriendly eyes he soon found 
as he went freely among them. They had known him as a 
man of toil like themselves, and as blameless in his life. But 
the claim he made in their synagogue was blasphemous and 
had roused their indignation. What! he, who all these years 
had walked their streets, become suddenly the deliverer prom- 
ised long ago! It was unthinkable! Still, there were some 
who would not judge and who advised Zatthu to seek Eliud 
Merari. This old Hebrew, so they said, was wise and learned. 
To be sure, he had allowed his granddaughter to marry a 
Roman; but the Roman had adopted their own faith and was 
accounted a good man. And Merari himself had always kept 
the Commandments and had at one time been much reverenced 
by the elders and scribes. 

Zatthu opened his eyes wide at this mention of Marcus. 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 265 


How his past kept staring at him! Were his experiences 
forming themselves into a chain that would always be fas- 
tened to him? No, that could hardly be. To think it, was to 
show distrust in Jehovah. But he would seek this old Hebrew 
about whom, as he now remembered, he had heard Aristarchus 
inquire and Marcus speak when he was listening to them in 
the little apartment adjoining his host’s sick-room. 

Going to the house where Merari lived, he was deeply 1m- 
pressed by his noble aspect, and he greeted him with profound 
respect. 

“Almost,” he said, ‘does it seem as if I stood in the pres- 
ence of Samuel or Elijah, to each of whom the spirit of Jeho- 
vah was given in no common measure.” 

“Do not say it! Do not think it! they heard the voice of 
Jehovah. I am but as a little wandering child that would 
fain be guided to its home.” 

“But you are very wise. You know our Scriptures. You 
have lived in many lands. You know the minds of men. 
Gladly would I learn of you.” 

“YT have nothing to give. Years ago I was proud of my 
knowledge. But God has humbled me. I grope in the dark 
and long for light.” 

‘So I think our father Jacob and Moses himself would have 
spoken as their days were coming to an end. It is your lack 
of pride that makes me seek enlightenment from you. When 
you pondered over our ancient writings, surely they helped 
you to form some fixed beliefs. ‘Those promises of our na- 
tion’s redemption — when and how are they to be fulfilled?” 

It was only after he had sat some time in silence, looking 
dreamily before him, that Merari answered, 

“IT do not know. Would that I did.” 

“And that Messiah who is to lift us into greatness — have 
you no idea when he will come and how?” 

“Sometimes I think he is here now.” 

Well did Zatthu understand who it was that the old man 


266 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


had in mind. He understood and a feeling of bitterness rose 
in his heart. The Nazarenes he had previously talked with 
had for the most part spoken contemptuously of this man of 
toil who set up to be their promised saviour; but they were 
ignorant and common. He had come to this august and 
learned character to get a more discerning view. He could 
not be like the rabble who thought as their feelings bade them. 
Yet it seemed as if he were as blind as they. Thinking thus, 
it was with a tinge of resentment that he asked, 

“Flow could that be? How could the promised Messiah 
appear and the people not be aware of it?” 

“Did the people always see in Moses one whom God had 
sent?” 

“That was long ago. We have been warned that this de- 
liverer was to come. For many generations we have been on 
the watch for him.” 

**And even as of old, we may be blind. We may be blind.” 

“TI do not believe we could be. But if you think the de- 
liverer is here, you must be thinking of some man who is even 
now working the things that make for our deliverance. Who 
is the man?” 

“Jesus the carpenter’s son who had his home here in Naza- 
reth.” 

“But he was thrust out from the synagogue here for blas- 
phemy. He is stirring up and misleading the common people 
while he neglects our elders, our scribes, our Pharisees.” 

Merari was still groping for light. It was in a very mildly 
protesting manner that he replied, 

“YT fear our Nazarenes were rash and misguided when they 
laid violent hands on Jesus. He is gentle and good and wise. 
More than once has he come here and talked with me. His 
spirit is reverent and holy. I cannot think he will do the 
people harm.” 

“You are guileless and your years have left you kindly and 
trustful. I cannot be surprised that you think in this friendly 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 267 


way of Jesus, though I could wish it were otherwise. For 
you do not understand. He is a mischief maker. By some 
strange, but surely some unholy art he cures diseases and gets 
the people on his side. He mingles with the coarse, the un- 
clean and the defiling, and thus mocks at our sacred tradi- 
tions. All this baser horde he fills with the idea that he is 
their leader and protector. But when the trumpet rings 
through Zion, will he make them obey its call? No, for he 
will be powerless to array them against Rome himself, and he 
has turned them away from the men of exalted rank and sta- 
tion whom the people should follow and obey.” 

‘And is the trumpet soon to ring through Zion?” 

“It surely will. Rome’s hour has almost come.” 

‘And the real deliverer — is he at hand?” 

“TI am convinced he is.” 

‘His name?” 

“It is not for me to name it. From Jehovah the call must 
come. When it does come, it will be as clearly heard as it 
was of old when Moses heard God speaking and Samuel lis- 
tened to His voice in the stillness of the night.” 

**And the call will be a call to arms?” 

“Yes, even as it was to Deborah, who made Barak fight 
against Sisera.” 

“TY am very old. My soul shrinks from alarums, from war- 
fare, from the thunder of the captains and the shouting. It 
turns rather to the gentle son of the carpenter who carries 
peace, not a sword, in his right hand and who, you tell me, 
heals the people of their ills. Hardly, it seems to me, will he 
thrust rudely away the heel of Rome that is bruising us; yet 
in some way, I know not now, I feel that he is to bring healing 
and deliverance to Israel.” 

“Again I say, it is your age, not the native strength of 
your spirit, that is speaking. When the Philistines oppressed 
our nation, the task of its leaders was to free them. It is the 
Romans who oppress them now, and some one will surely 


268 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


be raised up to save them. When he is so raised up, the land 
will tremble, great deeds will be wrought, and our salvation 
will come with blood and flame.” 

“And are you yourself listening ever for the call? Are 
you the one who is to be raised up and become Israel’s re- 
deemer?” 

“Jehovah only knows. If the call comes I shall heed it as 
promptly as the child obeys its father’s voice.” 

Not much more was said. The two realized that they dif- 
fered profoundly and upon a matter that touched their very 
souls. But their parting was friendly. Each respected the 
other and Merari was impressed by Zatthu’s fervor even 
though he could not share it. A patriot himself, he could not 
listen unmoved to this younger man’s burning patriotism. 

To Zatthu the interview had been at once disturbing and 
inspiriting. He had been stirred to defend his own course and 
to pronounce Jesus a menace to the nation’s weal. Yet it 
was not with a light and confident heart that he went away 
from this august figure that was like the prophets of old. 
Of all the men of his own people he had met and acquainted 
with his purpose, this was the one whose support and sym- 
pathy he would most gladly have secured. And the old man, 
devout, reverent, profoundly experienced yet humble as a 
child, paid homage to the carpenter’s son! Zatthu was sad- 
dened as he thought of it. The strong faith that had flowed 
in like a tide when he justified himself to Merari now ebbed a 
little. But it must not ebb. Did David’s weaken as he drew 
near Goliath? No, for had it done so, Jehovah would not 
have guided his arm and the stone would have missed its aim. 
He must be strong. He would find strength and he would 
find it from Him who gave it to the holy men of old. 

Kelita and Shobek wondered what had become of their 
leader when night came and he did not appear. Midnight 
passed and failed to bring him. At dawn he came, but not as 
one worn and weary. He had spent the night under the stars 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 269 


and to Him who made them his prayers had risen fervently 
and long. And though no vision of angels had come to him 
as it had come to Jacob, and no voice had spoken as it spoke 
to Moses, he doubted not that his petitions had been heard. 
He must wait Jehovah’s time; but the time was sure to come. 
With a deep and uplifting trust he sought the dwelling that 
gave him shelter. Kelita and Shobek were watching and went 
forth to meet him joyfully. But the words they would have 
spoken did not fall from their lips. On his face was a rapt 
and joyous look that moved them to wonder. Surely Jeho- 
vah had raised this man up to do great things for Israel. 


270 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


iil 


In a small village at the foot of Mount Tabor there was 
gathered a group of people as the sun was near its setting in 
the summer afternoon. Only two days have passed since 
Zatthu had talked with Merari in Nazareth. But it is to be 
remembered that it was late in Zif, or May, when Zatthu and 
his two faithful adherents fell in with Aristarchus; and all 
that happened to him in Capernaum took place in early Sivan, 
or June. It was still June when he fled into the Galilean 
mountains. As he stands now speaking to the throng that 
had collected about him, it was the glowing sun of June that 
shone full upon his face. 

The bright light did not dazzle him. His eyes were turned 
away from it and the radiance only rested on him like a glory. 
To all who were listening to him it made him seem like a 
prophet. It gave his burning words an added fire. Rapt 
was the attention that they gave him. They were all of the 
peasant class and some of them were not of Hebrew blood. 
Yet in all alike the land that gave them home and harvest 
engendered a rude patriotism. They loved the soil they tilled 
and the meadows that fed their kine. That Rome, cruel, mur- 
derous Rome, should rule it was like an open sore. 

And yet they were not warlike. When the tax-gatherer 
came, they grumbled; but their discontent was not deep 
enough to make them ready to face the Roman broadsword. 
For them the lowing herd, but not the trumpet’s bray; the 
purple of the vineyard, but not the crimsoned field of battle; 
the noonday rest beneath the olive, but not the sleep that fol- 
lows the gaping wound in the breast. Thrilled though they 
were by Zatthu’s impassioned appeal, they held life precious. 
When he asked how many would heed the call to arms, no one 
responded. They were with him in thought and sympathy; 
in deed they would hold themselves aloof. 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 271 


*“You see what sheep they are,” said Kelita disdainfully 
when the three were talking together an hour later. They 
were sitting under an ancient olive near the shepherd’s hut 
that offered them rude but kindly hospitality. The sun had 
gone down. ‘The stars were beginning to glimmer faintly. 
The evening breeze was refreshing after the glare of day and 
whispered consolation. Earth had an abiding strength, 
though man was frail. Stretched upon its quiet bosom Zatthu 
found peace and his heart still kept its courage. 

“You wrong them,” he answered calmly. “Not in a day 
does the sapling grow into the oak that can brave the blast. 
I am but watering the ground that gives its life to the forest. 
When the hour comes, the forest will stand up against the 
storm.” 

“A sapling may grow into a stout tree, but a sheep never 
turns into a lion.” 

“No, but their keeper, who is as a sheep when with his flock, 
will fight manfully with the ravening wolf. These men are 
not cowards. When Jehovah’s banner is unfurled, they will 
rally to it.” 

“There was one among them,” declared Shobek, “who 
would hold aloof even though he heard the voice of Jehovah. 
Did you notice the short, thickset man, with small dark eyes 
and a cunning face, who stood on the edge of the group?” 

“The group was so small that I recognize the man as you 
describe him. But I did not really mark him well.” 

“T did,” said Kelita, “and I did not like his looks at all. 
There, I thought, is a man who would steal from his own 
father and mother.” 

“He has done things as bad as that,” said Shobek. “I knew 
him in Cesarea. In fact everybody knew him there or knew 
about him, he was such an evil doer.” | 

‘Why wasn’t he put in prison or put to death?” inquired 
Zatthu. ‘Roman law is quick and vengeful.” 

“Just because he kept on the good side of the Romans. 


272 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


He was one of their spies and they forgave him many things 
because of the dirty work he did for them.” 

“He can’t be a Hebrew,” said Kelita. ‘That evil face of 
his did not show the blood of our nation.” 

“No, he is of mixed blood, part Syrian, I think,” answered 
Shobek. 

“A spy, and not a Hebrew,” observed Zatthu thoughtfully. 
“Then perhaps we ought to be on our guard against him. But 
what kind of things has he done?” 

*“T could tell you of more than one bad deed of his, but this 
will show you what a vile wretch he is.. One day he met a 
poor widow who was going to market with a small coin in her 
hand. He saw what she had clutched in her fingers, wrested 
the piece of money from her and ran off. She succeeded in 
getting him arrested and brought before Pilate and she had 
two witnesses to prove her story. But he said they were all 
three lying and Pilate declared that his guilt was not proved, 
though he showed he knew better by giving the woman two 
coins in place of the one she was robbed of. The next day the 
poor woman’s goat was found with its throat cut. Of course 
the fellow did it out of revenge, though nobody saw him.” 

“What do you think he is doing here?” Zatthu inquired. 

“He wanders about much, stealing and putting his hand 
to all kinds of mischief. He is short, but strong; can run 
like a fox and never gets tired. He will be in Cesarea before 
tomorrow noon.” 

“To tell Pilate he has seen the prisoner that escaped, I sup- 
pose,” was Kelita’s comment. 

“Exactly.” 

“But he never saw me. He doesn’t know who I am.” 

Shobek smiled as he replied, 

‘The man who talks as you did this afternoon tells who 
he is to a quickwitted fellow like him. Besides, he knows me 
and he knows just when I was first missed in Cesarea.” 

“Then you think he will betray us?” 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 273 
“T know he will.” 


“What is his name?” 

“Pachru. I don’t know to what race or nation that would 
point.” 

“Nor do I. But no matter. Well, Pachru, it would seem 
as if you were one of the foxes that would spoil our vines if 
we let you, but I don’t think we shall. You say, Shobek, he 
will be in Cesarea by tomorrow noon?” 

“Yes, or even before this very night is half spent.” 

‘And arriving there he will of course go at once to Pilate 
and tell him where I am.” 

“Of course.” 

“Very good. But you see there is no use in saying a man 
is in a certain place if he isn’t there.” 

‘What do you mean?” asked Shobek and Kelita together. 

“I mean that I shall not remain here to be taken by the 
soldiers Pilate will send to capture me.” 

“They will search through all the hills of Galilee for you,” 
said Kelita. ‘“‘But we can hide from them. They won’t 
find us.” 

“No, they won’t find us, for we shan’t be in Galilee at all.” 

“Where, then?” 

In Judea.” 

Shobek opened his eyes in wonder at this utterance, but 
Kelita, after sitting a moment in silence, said, 

“That would be a wise move. You could hide in Jerusalem 
for a while, for they would never think of looking for you 
there. Only it wouldn’t do to talk to the people against 
Rome.” 

“Not unless I fled at once after doing so. But that I could 
do and find refuge in these hills again. Juda and Galilee are 
not very far apart. I will confound the Romans by appear- 
ing first in the one region and then in the other, so they will 
never know where to look for me.” 


274 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“Such constant flitting from place to place would not 
trouble me a whit,” said Shobek. “I am made for it. But I 
fear it would wear you out.” 

‘No, it would only make me strong; for it would be in 
Jehovah’s service. Tomorrow we will start for Jerusalem.” 





PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 275 


IV 


The start was made early on the following morning. Even 
as the sun peeped above the hills east of the Jordan, Zatthu, 
Kelita and Shobek were making their way toward Judea. 

But as they had a cunning foe to deal with they were meet- 
ing craft with craft. The road that ran past Mount Tabor 
into the heart of Samaria and then on to Jerusalem they did 
not take. Because this was the natural course for any one 
who would travel directly from Mount Tabor to the capital 
city of Judea, they avoided it. From the village where we 
have found Zatthu addressing the gathered rustics there ran 
a brook that was one of the many that fed the Jordan. Bor- 
dering it was a path and this path they followed till it brought 
them to a highway that ran through almost the entire length 
of Palestine. It led through the low country that was ad- 
jacent to the Jordan till it reached the very border of the 
Dead Sea. At that point it turned eastward and brought 
the wayfarer by a circuitous course to Jerusalem. By keep- 
ing to this road Zatthu and his two companions felt sure they 
could avoid the Roman spy who had presumably gone to 
Cesarea to inform against the much sought fugitive from 
Roman justice. While the spy with a band of soldiers would 
be seeking him among the Galilean hills, he would be ever 
increasing the distance between them by journeying continu- 
ally southward. 

It was all well planned. With a confident heart Zatthu 
walked rapidly along the path by the brookside and reached 
the desired highway ere the sun was two hours high. Then 
the three proceeded directly southward at a slower pace. 
They felt the increasing heat. They were surely far from 
danger. 

Before noon they reached Scythopolis on the border of 
Samaria. Here they rested several hours, for the road from 


276 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


that point ran through an unwooded tract for a number of 
miles and would expose them to the sun’s intensest rays. 

In the middle of the afternoon they resumed their journey, 
still walking at a very leisurely pace. There were no villages 
of size along the road, but at nightfall they could find shelter 
in some rustic’s hut or if need be sleep beneath the naked 
stars. ‘They had taken the precaution to bring food with 
them from Scythopolis. 

Proceeding confidently yet warily they suddenly saw what 
made them stand still. Some three hundred paces ahead a 
small stream, that had its source in the hills of Samaria, 
crossed the road on its way to join the Jordan. On its banks 
was a thicket of reeds such as grow by the Dead Sea and the 
Jordan and reach a height sufficient to afford some protec- 
tion from the slanting rays of a westering sun. ‘The thicket 
had plainly been used to yield such shelter, for from it 
emerged six soldiers whose accoutrements glittered in the 
glowing light even though they wore no breastplates. 

“Romans,” said Kelita. ‘To the hills! To the hills at 
once.” 

“Why not wait for them?” said Zatthu. ‘They would not 
know who we were; and the hills have no woods for us to 
hide in.” 

“We are all three known by all the Romans in Palestine — 
you, because a full description of you has been sent to every 
post; Shobek by his height; and I by this hump of mine. 
Our best chance is to take to these hills. See, they are turning 
this way. We will get such a good start that they cannot 
overtake us.” 

‘Yes, we must make for the hills,” said Shobek, in whose 
mind schemes were already forming. ‘You two go ahead and 
veer off to the right, for I noticed a path leading up from the 
road not very far back. Let us start at a walk. If they run 
we will run too.” 


Kelita led the way. Zatthu followed and Shobek went 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 277 


close behind him. It was toward the hills of Gilboa that they 
directed their steps. The whole eastern part of the province 
of Samaria slopes down to the low lying ravine of the Jordan, 
and these hills, some fifteen hundred feet in height, lie a few 
miles to the west of the river. The ascent to them being 
gradual, Zatthu and his companions did not at once pass 
onto rising ground as they left the road. 

But their action excited the suspicion of the Romans who 
quickened their pace. Noticing this, the Hebrews did the 
same. ‘The Romans broke into a trot. So did the three. To 
make their course a diagonal instead of the two sides of an 
angle, the Romans abandoned the road and also made for the 
hills. But they did not thereby gain at once upon the fugi- 
tives. Kelita bore off so sharply to the right that the backs 
of himself and the two behind him were turned squarely upon 
their pursuers. 

The Hebrews had now come to rising ground. They slack- 
ened their pace a little and the Romans began to gain. But 
soon the path was reached. It took a winding course, now 
level and now ascending, and it gave the feet a surer footing. 
Coursing rapidly along it the fugitives gained a little till 
their pursuers also struck the path. Then for a considerable 
time the distance between the two parties remained very much 
the same. 

The mind of Shobek was active as he ran. It easily saw 
through the tactics of the Romans. They meant to keep 
together so that they could not be assailed one by one; and 
they felt sure of wearing down the men they were pursuing, 
who could find no shelter or concealment in the barren hills. 

“They are clever, but I will foil them,” said Shobek to him- 
self, and he watched for an opportunity. 

And before very long the opportunity came. Though the 
pace was only a very slow trot, it was exhausting. Even the 
perfectly trained athlete finds it hard to run up the most 
gentle elevation. Several times the three stopped and let 


278 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


their pursuers gain upon them; but the gain was slight, for 
as soon as the Romans noticed the halt they also took a 
breathing spell. But after they had followed the path for a 
good mile they passed into a wilder and rockier formation. — 
The rise was steeper here. ‘The rests had to be more frequent. 
Every moment Shobek was eyeing the ground to make it his 
ally in effecting their pursuers’ downfall. 

Passing up an unusually steep grade, the three found the 
path taking a level course for a short distance. Instinctively 
they rested and looked ahead. To his joy Shobek saw that 
their way was now to lie for some fifty paces through a nar- 
row steep defile, the upper portion of which was shut in by 
rocks that rose sheer on either side, and was only wide enough 
for men to pass through it in single file. 

“Up through the pass as fast as you can go!” he said in a 
low tense voice to his two comrades. “I think we have them 
now.” 

He dashed on ahead, the others close behind him. Emerg- 
ing into the freer space he bade Zatthu and Kelita to stand 
with drawn swords in the pass, a few paces from its upper 
end, as if they intended to give fight; he himself looked 
quickly around to see if nature favored the kind of warfare 
he had in mind. ‘To his satisfaction he saw loose stones, small 
and large, lying all around and a rock heavier than an ordi- 
nary man could lift not deeply imbedded in the ground. 

“Hold them by parley or by any means you can for a few 
moments,” he said to Zatthu and Kelita. ‘Then do as I bid 
you and I will give these fellows a surprise.” 

In a very brief space the Romans reached the lower end of 
the defile, looked up through it, saw the glittering swords and 
prepared themselves for the seemingly inevitable conflict. 
Slowly they advanced with their own swords in their hands; 
but unwilling to attack unknown men without making sure 
that they were enemies of Rome, they halted, and their leader, 
who proved to be a decurion, called out, 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 279 


‘‘Who are your” Why do you run from us?” 

“Why do you pursue us?” replied Zatthu. 

‘‘We pursued because you ran. You saw we were soldiers 
and you straightway took to the hills. Now you stand with 
drawn swords to resist us. It all shows that you are enemies 
of Rome. So again I say, who are you?” 

“We are Hebrews. No Hebrew is a friend of Rome except 
the traitors who are paid with Roman gold. And, praise to 
Jehovah, they are few.” 

“You admit that you are Hebrews. I am sure you are the 
very ones whom Galba, the centurion in command at Jerusa- 
lem, sent me with these men under me to capture. I am a 
Roman decurion. I command you to surrender.” 

“You will have to come and take us. We know Rome’s 
cruelty too well to give ourselves into her hands.” 

Bidding his men follow him the decurion started up the 
defile to the assault. But he advanced slowly and warily, for 
the higher ground his adversaries occupied and the necessity 
of advancing in single file put the assailants at a disadvan- 
tage. And not more than a single step forward had they 
taken when Shobek gave the command, ‘Out of the pass. 
Quick! Give place to me!” and Zatthu and Kelita, having 
full confidence in his resourcefulness, darted up into the open 
space. 

They were hardly out of the narrow passage before Shobek 
was in it, rushing headlong at the file of soldiers with a stone 
of goodly size in his right hand and several more supported 
by his left arm inside his tunic. The decurion who confronted 
him was a brave man, but, like all his comrades, he was with- 
out breast-plate or shield. Not expecting to engage in any 
passage of arms the little company had started out merely to 
get tidings of Zatthu’s whereabouts and bring back the news 
that might lead to his capture. So they were armed and 
armored so as to bear the oppressive heat without too great 
discomfort. 


280 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


Believing his only defence was in taking the aggressive, the 
decurion darted up the passage to thrust this formidable 
adversary through, even as Shobek bore down upon him. But 
he had no chance to use his sword. Before he was within 
thrusting distance Shobek let fly his ponderous missile with all 
his force. It struck the decurion full in the chest; he went 
crashing down and brought to earth the man behind him who 
was, however, but little hurt. Stepping astride the two bodies 
Shobek hurled with the same terrific force a second stone, and 
down went the soldier who was third in line; and more 
quickly than his doings could be told he felled the fourth man 
by still another missile. 

Half of the attacking party being thus disabled, Shobek 
darted back to the end of the passage and before the dazed 
Romans could realize their danger he had the big rock, which 
he had previously pried and pulled out of the soil, in the 
middle of the path just at the entrance to the passageway. 
A vigorous push would send it crashing down upon the pros- 
trate Romans. 

‘Surrender,’ he cried, “or I shall roll this boulder down 
upon you, and there will be no life left then in you three who 
are lying on the ground.” 

“Tell him we surrender, and give up your swords,” said the 
decurion faintly to the three uninjured men who were bending 
over him and his fallen comrades. ‘My ribs are crushed and 
I can hardly speak. Probus and Dromo, I fear, are in no 
better case.” 

“Worse,” groaned the one who had received the second 
missile. ‘Not only are my ribs smashed but my right arm 
was broken by my fall.” 

From the third who had been felled there came no voice, 
for he had for the moment been made unconscious. But his 
testimony was not needed. It was folly to resist and bring 
down the threatening boulder. 


PART IV--THE BROKEN HOPE 281 


“We surrender,” cried one of the soldiers sullenly. “We 
can’t fight catapults.” 

“Then throw your swords, all six of them, in this direc- 
tion.” 

This was done and the viciousness that was put into the 
throw showed the wrath and resentment of the defeated party. 
Shobek gathered up the swords and laid them down outside 
the pass. Then he faced the soldiers again and said, 

“Are any of you badly hurt? One of us is skilled in treat- 
ing wounds and will give you help if you wish it.” 

“Yes, with a knife-thrust in the heart,” said Kelita in a 
low voice which only his two friends could hear. But Shobek 
did not heed him, and having no taste for ending the lives of 
his fellow beings, he was relieved when after a few moments 
came the answer, 

“No, we do not want your assistance. We find we can all 
walk, and we will look after ourselves. But you are a pretty 
joker to ask if we are hurt much after pelting us with stones 
that would batter down a fortress.” 

Without answering this sally Shobek, with Kelita’s assis- 
tance, gathered up the swords of the Romans and started to 
lead the way up the hillside. 

“No, no! Shobek,” said Zatthu anxiously, “You are bleed- 
ing and, I fear, badly hurt. We must rest here and care for 
your wound.” 

““S-s-sh.” said Shobek. “Not a word now. The Romans 
must not know about it. That fellow that fell with the de- 
curion got his sword into my side when I was standing over 
him and his captain. But don’t be alarmed. He did not hurt 
me much.” 


282 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


V 


It was not till they were well out of sight that Shobek 
allowed notice to be taken of his wound. He was unwilling 
that the Romans should suppose him so badly hurt that he 
could not travel far and could be found by an organized 
search. But his wound was really a severe one and made it 
necessary that they should find a resting-place as soon as 
possible. Journeying over a mountain path was painful and 
might cause dangerous inflammation. 

Far up the hillside they rested while Kelita dressed the 
wound and stayed the flow of blood. Shobek then declared 
that he was able to proceed by stepping cautiously and slowly. 

“But before we start,” he said, “I want you to bury those 
six Roman swords, Kelita, where they will never be found.” 

“A pity to waste such good weapons,” replied Kelita. 
“Why not keep them?” 

“Zatthu and I have swords; we got them in Cesarea. You 
always have that dagger of yours when it comes to fighting. 
Put them where no one will ever see them. I am really sorry 
for those soldiers. What a story they will have to make up 
to explain why they come back without their weapons!” 

“The Romans are all liars. They will make up their story 
without any trouble; and even if they told the plain truth, 
they would make out a good case for themselves. That boul- 
der would have pounded the life out of those three who lay 
there sprawling.” 

So saying, Kelita, not without reluctance, concealed the 
swords in a thicket a little distance from the path and the 
three went slowly on their way. Soon passing over the crest 
of the ridge they had been climbing, they descended into a 
fertile valley on the other side. Here several shepherds kept 
their small flocks and with one of them they found shelter. 
He was a Samaritan as were all his brethren; but the sight of 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 283 


a wounded Hebrew roused his compassion and to all three he 
gave the best accommodation that his meagre home allowed. 

Shobek sank down gladly on the rude bed that was pre- 
_ pared for him and there he had to stay. To have gone fur- 
ther would have endangered his life; so there was nothing to 
do but wait and risk pursuit and capture. For a number of 
days they watched in deep anxiety; but no Romans ap- 
peared. Half of the routed soldiers had been too badly hurt 
to travel rapidly and they were a considerable distance from 
Jerusalem. By the time the decurion and his command ar- 
rived at Jerusalem no doubt the three Hebrews were supposed 
to have made good their escape into some out of the way 
fastnesses in the hills. 

As day after day passed by and they were still unmolested, 
Kelita grew restless. 

“Could you not look after Shobek and his wound while I 
go and spy the country?” he said one day to Zatthu after 
they had been some ten days in the valley. 

“That I would gladly do, but where do you want to go?” 

“Up into Galilee. I am sure that miscreant that found us 
at Mount Tabor is trying to track us. I want to see what 
mischief he is brewing.” 

“Perhaps he would capture you. Then I should feel that 
my right hand was gone.” 

“No, your left. Shobek is your right. But never fear. 
That fox could never find Kelita.” 

“Well, go and Jehovah be with you.” 

So Kelita departed and was gone five days. <A smile of 
satisfaction was on his face when he returned and told the 
tale of his wanderings. 

“It is just as I thought,” he said. ‘The dirty knave went 
straight to Cesarea and broucht back thirty soldiers into 
Galilee. They divided into three parties and they are still 
scouring the country to find us. They are so afraid of us,” 
he chuckled, “‘that not less than ten dare hunt.” 


284 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“How did you learn all this?” 

‘Always on the lookout I saw yesterday the glint of armor 
half a mile away, climbed a pine by the pathway, and under 
the shade of it the soldiers I had sighted rested. So for nearly 
an hour I heard their talk.” 

“So Galilee,” said Zatthu, “is searched by the Romans. 
Well, I will carry out my plan and go to Jerusalem.” 

And this he did the very next day, though his two friends 
protested and demanded that he should wait till Shobek was 
well and they could accompany him. 

“That would not do at all,” was his rejoinder. “In differ- 
ent ways you are both marked men. Your presence would 
betray me.” 

“But how about yourself?” inquired Kelita. ‘The soldiers 
at the gate would recognize you. Many now know you by 
sight.” 

“But many do not. Moreover, I can disguise myself. 
Never fear. Before you are on your feet again, Shobek, I 
shall be back safe and sound.” 

And so it proved. Before the third Sabbath had come 
round Zatthu rejoined them. No harm had come to him and 
his experiences had deepened his belief in his own call to the 
leadership of his people. 

“TI am needed, sorely needed,” he said as he told his story. 
“TY got into Jerusalem without trouble. Our host, you know, 
lent me a shepherd’s outfit; I joined two men who were taking 
some sheep into the city and the guard at the gate hardly 
looked at me as I went in. At my own home my brother and 
sister were as rejoiced and as surprised to see me as if I had 
come back from the dead; and I had much to tell them. But 
I did not linger there, for I feared the house was watched. It 
was Simeon the Pharisee that gave me shelter and arranged 
for me to speak in the synagogues of the city. 

“Three times I did so. The matter was kept very quiet, 
and when I spoke it was a surprise to most who heard me. 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 285 


It was in the Synagogue of Levi that I first appeared, quite 
to the astonishment of many. Then in the Synagogue of 
Joshua. They were all pleased to see me. That was plain. 
But I could not awaken much feeling; and I saw why. Iwasa 
hunted man. They could not look on meas a leader any more. 
But when I spoke the third time, again in the Synagogue of 
Levi, I really touched and roused them. I pictured David as 
a hunted outcast yet still guided by Jehovah and staying his 
trust in Him. They were beginning to be stirred. There 
was that in the air which makes a speaker know his words are 
going home — when the end came as suddenly as I had 
thought it would. The spies had tracked me. At the well 
barred door a knock was heard — the knock of Rome. 

“But I was not caught, though their approach had indeed 
been wary. Our sentinels had been seized before they could 
give warning, but before the Romans were inside the syna- 
gogue I was out of their reach. The moment the knock was 
heard I was hurried behind some draperies. A concealed door 
was then opened for an instant and I was taken through an 
underground passage, known only to a few, that connected 
the synagogue with the house of Elioenai the scribe on the 
other side of the street. Thence I was taken outside and I 
found my way to my established hiding place. When the 
Romans entered the synagogue no one would admit that I 
had been there or give them any clue whatever.” 

“And how did you get out of the city?” inquired Shobek. 
“The gates must have been very closely guarded.” 

“Just as I did at Cxsarea, though it was not quite so 
easily done as when you carried it through there. There is 
no one like you to help a man over a high wall on a dark 
night.” : 

‘And what shall we do now?” asked Kelita. 

“Find a hiding place in the hills of Judea, now that Shobek 
seems to be fully recovered, and wait there for a time. I will 
show myself often enough to keep the Romans uneasy and 


286 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


our people hopeful. Their zeal has cooled because they have 
not seen me or heard much about me for a long time. But I 
put fire into their hearts; and when they find that I am active 
still, they will be looking for the hour when Jehovah will set 
them free. And the hour will come. All that is needed to 
bring it is an unshaken faith.” 

‘An unshaken faith!” said Kelita slowly and with a puzzled 
air. ‘An unshaken faith! Yes, that is the only thing that 
will bring success. But how long can a faith be kept un- 
shaken if nothing is done? Would it not be wise to make it 
burst at once into a flame? Why not raise the banner of 
revolt as Maccabeus the Hammer did, and see if our people 
would not flock to it from near and far?” 

‘There have been times when I was on the point of doing 
it,” answered Zatthu. ‘But we have too strong a foe to face.” 

“There are not many Roman soldiers in all Palestine.” 

“But more, whole armies more, to come at call. And ter- 
rible is the might of the Roman legion. Rome’s hosts are not 
to be overcome as the great Judas triumphed over Antiochus 
and his generals.” 

“But when will the time for action come?” 

“When Jehovah’s call is heard. When He speaks unmis- 
takably to some one of our nation as He spoke of old to 
Deborah, and to Gideon. The war when it comes must be a 
holy war, not such a one as Judas the Hammer waged against 
Antiochus. He was brave. He was great. He was victori- 
ous. But the blows he struck, he struck by the might of his 
own great spirit. Jehovah surely looked down with approval 
upon him, but Jehovah’s hand was not seen in the days of 
battle. Jehovah did not destroy the armies of Syria as He 
drowned the Egyptians and visited the hosts of Sennacherib 
with death.” 

Zatthu ceased and silence fell for a time upon the three. 
They were sitting outside the shepherd’s hovel. It was a day 
in the autumn month of Tisri when the early rains begin. 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 287 


Already the showers had been frequent enough to freshen all 
green growing things; but the sun was then shining brightly 
down upon them and the air was deliciously clear and cool. 
Shobek, who had not spoken at all, had a grave look that 
wore the tinge of resignation. He did not now break the 
silence; but to one who tried to read his thoughts his look 
would have suggested invincible loyalty rather than buoyant 
hope. Kelita’s questioning mood had by no means passed, 
but he too was dominated by an unwavering attachment to 
his leader; and even though he longed for a more active 
policy, the calm resolution written all over his countenance 
showed that he would follow him unflinchingly even to death. 
But he too now kept his thoughts to himself, and it was Zatthu 
who again began to speak. 

“Yes,” he resumed, “it must be a holy war, and the call to 
it cannot come till the people are ready to hear it and obey. 
Their minds are perverted now. They are heeding a false 
prophet; and not till they have turned from him and re- 
pented of their folly will Jehovah speak. All Galilee, as you 
know, is running after Jesus of Nazareth, the son of a car- 
penter, because by some strange unhallowed power he heals 
their diseases, or makes them think he does, while he sees 
Jehovah’s chosen people trodden under the oppressor’s heel 
and does not lift hand or voice to deliver them.” 

“Do they also believe in him at Jerusalem?” asked Shobek. 

“IT am thankful to say that they do not. That is the one 
thing that gives me hope just now. The common people, who 
are as easily led astray at this present time as they were in 
the wilderness under Moses, approve his monstrous claims. 
But the men of light and understanding see how unworthy, 
how impious he is. I was seized and taken to Cesarea, you 
know, just before our great Passover. Just after I was car- 
ried away he appeared in Jerusalem at the time of the Pass- 
over, and grossly offended our priests and all our men of dig- 
nity and learning by overthrowing the tables of the money- 


288 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


changers at the temple. And then, to crown his presumption, 
he drove away with a scourge not only the money-changers 
but all those who sold animals for sacrifice. Many of the 
weaker minds believed on him then because of the things he 
did. But the Pharisees and all who keep alive our sacred tra- 
ditions were shocked by his conduct. And just so it was 
when he came again to the city not a great while after the 
Passover. He did not tarry long, and yet long enough to 
show what an impostor he is. Again he performed some of 
those strange cures that he works; and in particular he healed 
a man at the pool of Bethesda on the Sabbath and bade him 
take up his bed and walk. When the Pharisees reproached 
him for thus desecrating our holy day, on which no man is to 
work, he burst forth into a passionate speech, in which he 
claimed to be the Son of God. So filled with wrath were our 
leaders that they were eager to put him to death. But he 
evaded them and quickly withdrew from the city. 

**So you see he does not mislead the minds that are forti- 
fied by study of our Scriptures and reverent observance of 
our sacred usages. But the common people are always fickle. 
He has got them on his side throughout all Galilee. Here in 
Judea and in Jerusalem he contrives to pervert many of them. 
But his day will pass! His day will pass! Every false 
prophet shows how false he is in time. And when his power 
is broken and the people run after him no longer, then I am 
sure the call of Jehovah will be heard; then the true prophet 
will arise; then will he raise the banner that the God of Israel 
himself will lead to victory.” 

“And the prophet’s name shall be Zatthu,” said Kelita 
fervently; for he had been reached and quickened by his 
leader’s enthusiasm. 


PART IV--THE BROKEN HOPE 289 


VI 


So Zatthu went south into the Judean hills, devoutly be- 
lieving that the call from on high would come when the Star 
of the One born at Bethlehem should wane. Following Zat- 
thu’s plan they had found their way into Judea instead of 
returning into Galilee; for the spy, they felt sure, was still 
scouring Galilee with the myrmidons sent out from Cesarea. 
True, the centurion in command at Jerusalem was from time 
to time dispatching searching parties in various directions 
from that city. Such was the fame of the three outlaws that 
the quest for them was not readily abandoned. But Judea 
was very mountainous. It was no difficult matter to find 
hiding places in its hills where no band of soldiers would ever 
come unless treachery guided them. And of treachery they 
were not afraid. 

Through the whole length of Judea runs a lofty table-land 
from north to south. Nearly everywhere it is well over two 
thousand feet in height, Jerusalem itself being twenty-six 
hundred feet above the level of the ocean and nearly four 
thousand feet higher than that deep-sunken body of water, 
the Dead Sea. Steep is the ascent westward from this vast 
salty pool, and less than twenty miles from its central part is 
Hebron, where Abraham dwelt and David at one time reigned. 
It is a lofty point, three thousand feet above the ocean level, 
and looks down on the oaks of Mamre where the three angels 
came to the great father of Israel as he sat in his tent in the 
heat of the day. 

It was hither that Zatthu found his way with his two de- 
voted allies. He reasoned rightly that the Romans would go 
northward rather than southward for him and would never 
look for him in the high mountain country of Hebron. So 
for a whole month he remained there in security, nor did he 
live in concealment. He had come there with a purpose. 


290 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


While he was waiting for the great and final hour to strike 
he would get into communion with the spirits of the olden 
time who had walked with Israel’s God. He would tread the 
ground that they had trod. He would feel their presence ln- _ 
gering there and giving strength to his soul. 

Hebron! Abraham had there received the Hele visitants 
who made known the dread Jehovah’s will. And there had 
the royal David dwelt, with whom the Rock of Israel made an 
everlasting Covenant. Where in all Palestine was there a 
more hallowed spot? Where could the past of God’s chosen 
people speak more appealingly? 

The oaks of Mamre? It was among them that Israel’s 
founder had pitched his tent; and the people of Hebron still 
pointed to the very tree that was held to be Abraham’s own. 
Not without awe did Zatthu stand before it. The very soil 
about it seemed sacred. Jehovah could not reveal himself in 
unveiled majesty and splendor to mortal eyes. Moses alone 
had seen him face to face. But on this very ground had stood 
the three who came straight from the presence of Jehovah 
and uttered His divine behest. Reverently Zatthu gazed up 
into the heavens, almost expecting that they would open and 
the same messengers that had startled Abraham’s eyes would 
show themselves again. Surely they were not far away. 
Surely they were reading his own thought and blessing it. 
The people he had set himself to free was the same that Jeho- 
vah had delivered out of Egypt and saved again and again 
from the uncircumcised heathen in the Promised Land. Over 
this same ground had walked David whom God had taken 
from the sheep-cote and from following the sheep to do mighty 
deeds for Israel; David, whose seed was to endure forever and 
his throne as the days of heaven. Yet his seed was now 
crushed under Rome’s iron heel and his throne dishonored by 
the worshippers of graven images. This profanation could 
not but be seen and noted in the heavens. Surely the divine 
displeasure must be ever waxing greater. Surely the storm 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 291 


of Jehovah’s wrath must soon burst upon the Romans and 
the promise made to David be fulfilled! 

Not once but many times did these thoughts come to Zatthu 
while he sojourned at Hebron and walked among the oaks of 
Mamre. So his stay there brought new strength and courage 
to his spirit. But he did not spend his days in merely com- 
muning with his people’s past and dreaming dreams. Many 
times he went forth with Shobek and Kelita to sound the 
minds of the mountain dwellers and instil the longing for free- 
dom into their souls. He stopped the wayfarer in his wan- 
dering; he halted the man at the plow; he made the vine 
dresser stand still and listen to his speech. Toil was not so 
imperious a master as this champion of Israel’s long-suffer- 
ing children. And a hearing he always gained. No one could 
resist his fiery vehemence. His eye flashed and his words were 
hke a burning torrent as he pictured his country’s wrongs. 
Often it was a group that he addressed, and when he passed 
on, those who had listened to him felt that they had seen a 
prophet and slowly took up their tasks again in a wondering 
mood. 

Did he really make converts? Were the men who heard 
him ready to drop spade and pruning hook if the standard 
of revolt were raised? This he could not surely tell; but he 
was hopeful. He was sowing seed that Jehovah would ripen 
into a mighty harvest when the day of deliverance came. 
That, he could not but believe. To doubt it would have been 
to question whether Jehovah stiil called Israel his chosen 
people. 

But the life was a restless one; it brought a mood of ex- 
treme restlessness. After a month at Hebron Zatthu found 
that the oaks among which Abraham had pitched his tent and 
David had walked and brooded ceased to speak potently to 
his spirit. He wanted new inspiration. So northward he 
journeyed with the faithful two by the road that led directly 
to Jerusalem. While Kelita and Shobek kept themselves in 


292 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


concealment, he ventured again into the city and again made 
an impassioned harangue in one of its many synagogues. 
Prudence however bade him not repeat the experience, and he 
was out of the reach of the Romans before they knew of this 
new challenge to their vigilance. 

It was to Zereda, an ancient village on one of the shoulders 
of Mount Ephraim, that the three now found their way. Not 
near the travelled road between north and south, it afforded 
security as well as shelter. Comfortably lodged there by a 
humble but devout and patriotic Israelite, Zatthu made ex- 
cursions into the surrounding country as he had done at 
Hebron. And as at Hebron he sought strength from his 
people’s story. Indeed, he went far to seek it. ‘There were 
no spots with sacred associations close at hand. But beyond 
the Jordan valley was Mount Pisgah from whose summit 
Moses had looked forth on the land he could not enter but 
was allowed to see. Thither he went, not minding that the 
way was arduous over little frequented paths. 

He did not let Kelita and Shobek climb the mountain with 
him. Up to the top of Pisgah he made his solitary way, for 
on its summit he wished to be alone. And there he spent a 
wondrous and never to be forgotten hour. Below him was 
the very scene on which Moses with the undimmed eye and the 
unabated strength had wistfully looked forth. There was 
the Dead Sea where Jehovah’s wrath against the evil doer 
had been so terribly shown. ‘There was the Jordan whose 
waters had stood still that the Holy Ark might be carried 
over. And beyond was the land on which Moses had gazed 
with rapt vision, the land which he, Zatthu, was longing and 
hoping to free. The deep places in his heart were stirred as 
he looked on the mountains dimly seen in the purple distance 
and the numberless vales where his people had gathered their 
harvests and tended their flocks from generation to genera- 
tion. And there too had they fought the heathen and seen 
their enemies smitten by the hand of Jehovah. What a great 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 293 


and wondrous history had Israel had! It was the God who 
called Abraham from Ur that sent Joseph into Egypt. It 
was the same God who delivered his chosen people from bond- 
age through his servant Moses, fed them in the wilderness, 
led them into the land of promise and bare them and carried 
them all the days of old. And how mighty were the men he 
raised up to guide them and inspire them — mighty in valor, 
mighty in their faith, mighty in prophecy and song! There 
were Joshua and Samuel and David and Solomon and Isaiah 
and Daniel! To what other nation had figures so august 
appeared! Yes, and mightiest of all was Moses whom Jeho- 
vah had honored as he had honored no other man. For there 
on the near-by slopes of Nebo had Jehovah himself laid him 
to his rest while no mortal eye looked on. Reverently Zatthu 
looked across the intervening valley to Nebo’s summit, and 
with a deeper sense of awe than he had ever felt before he 
thought of that strange burial. Had angels ever since been 
keeping watch over the sacred spot? Were they even now 
peering through the clouds of heaven and making sure that 
the earth stirred by the very hand of Him who made it suf- 
fered no defilement? And even as the wonder came to him he 
turned his eyes away. It seemed to him he was gazing on 
that which was too holy for human eyes to see. 

It was with a chastened and yet with an exultant spirit 
that he finally made his way slowly down the mountain. The 
great spirits of the olden days had crossed his vision. What 
was he to Moses and Elijah and Daniel? Yet they were but 
the servants of Jehovah. It was Jehovah who had made them 
strong to speak His bidding and to do His will. And His 
will was to be accomplished now as much as in the days of 
old. Some one surely would be raised up to accomplish it. 
He dared not think that it was he, Zatthu, who was to hear 
the voice from heaven. And yet — and yet —if the voice 
should speak, he would be ready to hear it and obey. 





294. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


VII 


The plan that Zatthu had rudely outlined was carried out. 
With incessant and feverish activity the three traversed Gali- 
lee and then showed themselves in Judea, far away to the 
south. More than once the Romans heard that the man who 
so persistently baffled and defied them was in Jerusalem; yet 
even before they had fully wakened to the fact he was gone. 

It was into Galilee that they first directed their steps when 
they ended their sojourn at Zereda. Flitting from place to 
place, they had made a brief stay in the village of Sepphoris, 
only a few miles from Nazareth, at the very time when Naa- 
rah and Thisoa were visiting Merari there. How Thisoa 
would have been thrilled had she known that the man who had 
won her heart was sonear! From Sepphoris they went north- 
ward and there was no town or village in the region where 
they were not known. But the better known they became, the 
more the dangers thickened about them. It was only by un- 
ceasing vigilance and unceasing activity that they kept them- 
selves immune. 

Nine months of this wearing campaign have now passed by. 
It is early summer again and the three are in the little village 
of Safed some ten miles to the north of Lake Gennesaret. It 
has been made known that the hunted but elusive Zatthu will 
speak to the people of the village just before sundown when 
their daily toil is ended. Beneath an aged oak in the center 
of the village he waits for his hearers to gather. Kelita and 
Shobek, it is needless to say, are at his side. 

All three have aged under this aging experience. Kelita’s 
foxlike face has a still sharper look and shows lines not often 
to be seen in a man not yet thirty-five. The stamp of matur- 
ity is beginning to show itself markedly in the still fresh and 
youthful face of Shobek. He is as kindly as ever, but gravity 
and the settled will are to be read in his countenance which 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 295 


has grown to be that of a man. Yet it is Zatthu who has 
changed the most. His face has grown very noble. <A lofty 
enthusiasm has made it so. But his features are wasted. His 
eye is feverishly bright. It would seem as if the fire in his 
spirit were burning his mortal frame away. 

As the sun draws near its setting he paces restlessly up 
and down beneath the spreading branches of the oak. Kelita 
and Shobek are sitting and leaning against the sturdy trunk. 

“They will come,” says Kelita, noting his leader’s ill-con- 
cealed uneasiness. ‘These people lead a humdrum life. 
Nothing short of an earthquake could keep them away.” 

“You know I have talked to them before.” 

“That was months ago. You don’t make the mistake of 
speaking to the same people so often as to dull your words.” 

“And you don’t repeat yourself,” added Shobek. “I often 
wonder at that. You really have but one thing to say: ‘Rise 
against Rome.’ But you say it in so many different ways 
that it seems always new.” 

The villagers now began to gather and the conversation 
ceased. It was as Kelita had predicted. The life of such a 
rustic community was monotonously dreary. Its members 
eagerly assembled to hear the man whom they had listened to 
before and who could give them unwonted sensations. 

The sun had not yet set. Its light streamed on a motley 
assemblage of young men and old, mothers with their babes, 
and curious children. But they were rustics all, with the 
rustic mingling of shrewdness and simplicity and the rustic 
sense that life is to be taken without over much rejoicing or 
poignant sorrow. They had the toughness of fibre that be- 
longs to the children of the soil. Not all of them were He- 
brews. Many Syrians had come into Galilee. Settlers had 
wandered in from Phrygia, Arabia, Persia, and other not dis- 
tant lands. One or two Greek faces were to be seen in the 
gathered throng. Yet nearly all were Asiatics, with the ori- 
ental dreaminess, the oriental love of glowing vivid speech, 


296. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


and at the same time with that saving possession of sound 
practical judgment which mother earth bestows on those who 
keep company with her day by day. 

Altogether some five hundred streamed to the spot and 
when it would seem as if the whole village had assembled, 
Zatthu mounted a low platform which Kelita and Shobek 
had made and began to speak. 

His bearers got from his words all they had expected or 
desired. Zatthu’s speech had not grown tame through fre- 
quent iteration. He was now, as always, by turns passionate, 
appealing, graphic, rapt, and quiet. He delighted his lis- 
teners by the richness of his imagery and by his splendid 
narrative power. Yet when he had finished he had not bent 
them to his will. They were not responsive. His course was 
not theirs. They were critical instead of enthusiastic. 

“You talk well,” said an aged white-haired man, “but you 
don’t cure our diseases.” 

“That’s not what Jehovah has called me to do. My work 
is to free Israel.” 

“Moses did both,” was the comment of another man of 
years. 

“That,” said Zatthu, “was in the days long ago when Jeho- 
vah was continually showing signs and wonders to Israel.” 

Jesus of Nazareth shows them now.” 

“Yes, he cures us of all our ailments.” 

“And he’ll be our Moses too.” 

“Yes, yes, yes, he’ll be our Moses.” 

These crisp statements came in quick succession from dif- 
ferent lips and the last one roused a quite general echo. For 
immediately came the outcry from all parts of the assemblage, 

“Jesus of Nazareth is our Moses. Jesus of Nazareth is 
our Moses.” 

These words again and again repeated sent a chill to Zat- 
thu’s heart. Chagrined and saddened he waited for the clamor 
to cease. When there was quiet again, he asked, 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 297 


‘‘When was Jesus here and whom has he healed? Do not 
all speak at once, but let some one who can call Jehovah to 
witness that he has been cured by this Jesus come forward 
and tell me the truth.” 

A sturdy middle-aged man with an intelligent honest face 
edged his way out of the crowd and stood directly before 
Zatthu. 

“Jesus was here last month,” he said, “the month of Zif.* 
It was the tenth day of the month. I remember it well, for on 
that day he cured my blindness and made me see.” 

*“How long had you been blind?” 

“IT was born blind.” 

“Yes, he was born blind,” said several corroborating voices, 
while the man stood proudly erect and looked up at Zatthu 
as if he rejoiced in thus bearing witness to the power of the 
man who had healed him. 

Convinced that he spoke the truth, Zatthu looked at him 
sorrowfully for a moment and then stretched out his arms and 
said to the gathering before him, 

“Go your ways, my children. You are sheep without a 
shepherd. It is through the power of Beelzebub that this 
Jesus heals you. He will never come to you again. He is no 
Moses. He will never lift the yoke of Rome from your necks. 
In time you will see this. But go your ways now. Your de- 
liverance will not come till your hearts are changed.” 

As the crowd dispersed many tongues were loosed. There 
was at once a Babel of voices, but to what was uttered Zatthu 
shut his ears. He would have converse with none. He was 
sick at heart and he wanted to be alone. With Kelita and 
Shobek he turned from the chattering throng and left the 
village behind him. 

On a hillside two miles away was the dwelling of a goatherd 
who had given him and his two followers food and shelter be- 
fore. Thither he now went and once more found hospitality. 


*May in the Roman calendar. 


298 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


Food was set before him, but he scarcely touched it. Telling 
Shobek and Kelita that he wished to be by himself, he climbed 
to the crest of the hill on the slope of which the goatherd had 
built his humble abode. 

The night air was cooling. Above him shone the stars. 
He looked below and saw the earth resting peacefully in its 
mantle of darkness He looked above and felt that the myriad 
lights in the unclouded sky spoke the same message of tran- 
quillity. Jehovah reigned. Earth said it. The heavens said 
it. Yes, He surely reigned; He was keeping watch over 
Israel; He would neither slumber nor sleep. Uplifted by his 
trustful mood, Zatthu raised his arms heavenward and cried, 

“OQ Thou who hast chosen my people to be Thy people, be 
Thou our Shepherd still. Make our fold to be upon the high 
mountains of Israel; seek out that which was lost; bind up 
that which was broken; and destroy the fat and the strong 
who make thy people their prey. Yes, guide and deliver 
Israel and guide me, O Thou great and merciful Jehovah, till 
the day of deliverance comes. Keep Thou mine eyes from 
tears, my feet from falling and my soul from death. For 
truly Iam Thy servant and I pay my vows unto Thee.” 

Perhaps Zatthu did not know how fully his prayer was 
couched in the language of Ezekiel and the Psalms. Instinc- 
tively he used the words and phrases of his people’s Scrip- 
tures when he sought communion with the Most High. Such 
channels of expression brought refreshment to his soul. 
They made the streams which had strengthened the men of 
old flow into his own bruised spirit. So now he sat down com- 
forted. Jehovah was with him. It must be so. 

It was a commanding crest to which he had mounted. The 
moon had risen and im its light he caught the gleam of the 
waters of Gennesaret. Gennesaret! Right above it stood 
Capernaum, and there, from the house of Aristarchus, he had 
looked upon the lake’s blue depths. There still was the house 
by the lake’s edge, though not to be descried in the pale light 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 299 


that obscured even more than it revealed. Yes, there it stood, 
and there doubtless at this very moment was Thisoa. 

Thisoa! Had he thought of her in the long months that 
had passed since, largely through her own contriving, he 
had safely made his midnight dash for the hills? Yes, he had 
thought of her often, but not with longing. Jehovah had 
raised up this alien maid to do him priceless service. But the 
service had come to an end. He had felt that he must not 
take it as rendered personally to him. It had been given to 
the cause to which he was devoted, to his down-trodden people 
whom he was striving to free. So he had never thought of 
going back to Capernaum. It was not safe. It would bring 
himself into danger, and not only that but Aristarchus and 
his whole hcusehold would be imperilled if he went there again. 
So he had not even tried to keep in communication with 
this house that had so wendrously befriended him. All that 
was of the past. He had naught to do with maids or with 
generous aliens who brought trouble on themselves by helping 
him. When he had accomplished his great task he would 
seek them out, thank them for the part they had taken in 
bringing about the great deliverance and receive their con- 
gratulations. Now he belonged wholly to Jehovah and the 
work Jehovah had given him to do. 

But sudden and complete sometimes are the revulsions of 
the human spirit. Reminiscence has a startling power when 
it is allowed to have its sway. It now worked mightily in 
Zatthu’s troubled soul. He thought of those days at Caper- 
naum when Aristarchus was most hospitable, Xenodice most 
gracious, and Thisoa full of interest and sympathy. How 
heartily she listened to him and entered into all his plans! 
How eagerly she welcomed him when he came back from his 
visits to his own people and told what he had seen and heard! 
What a wise discretion she had shown when she gave her 
judgments on his ofttimes perturbing experiences, and what 
shrewdness in outwitting the centurion and saving his own 


300 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


life! A mighty rush of feeling and desire surged suddenly 
into his heart. Gladly would he at that very moment be in 
the friendly home that had given him shelter and encourage- 
ment. Gladly would he sit with the beautiful fearless girl 
and tell her of his wanderings, his perils, his ceaseless vigi- 
lance in evading the snares of his foes, and the soreness of his 
heart at the lukewarm temper of his people. With what 
ready sympathy would his every word be heard! What an 
inspiration would come to him as he looked into the glowing 
face and caught the enthusiasm of the noble and unselfish 
spirit! The man in him spoke as it had never spoken before. 
He felt unutterably lonely. His whole being cried out for 
Thisoa. 

And then came another revulsion of the spirit. This was 
wrong, utterly and miserably wrong. Was he, whom Jehovah 
had called to a mighty task, to be ruled by such unnerving 
thoughts! God punished the men of old who murmured at 
His will. Even Moses was not allowed to enter the promised 
land. Was he, Zatthu, to prove unworthy and lose his zeal 
through longing for a Grecian maiden? He felt ashamed. 
He rebuked himself unsparingly and straightway sank into a 
disheartened mood out of which he could not at once lift 
himself. 

For a long time he sat and brooded over these conflicting 
emotions in his spirit. Could a man so torn and divided do 
great things? Yes, he was called to do them and he must 
do them. These human longings must be stifled. He was 
being tried and tempted that his worth might be fully proved. 
It was Jehovah who was putting him to the test — Jehovah 
who was like a refiner’s fire and like fuller’s soap! The fire 
was fierce but he would not let it consume him. It would 
purify him, but he would be strong. 

With grim resolve he rose and walked slowly down to the 
goatherd’s dwelling. His courage was not gone, but it was 
chilled. It was too much like that of a shipwrecked man who 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 301 


clings to his spar while he waits for a sail to show itself in 
the waste of waters. He was willing himself to be brave; 
but the courage that has its seat in the will has lost its kin- 
dling fire. 

So in spite of his stern self-repression he entered the hut 
with a sense of despondency and weariness. He would have 
been more downcast had he seen that he had been followed 
all the way down from the summit where he had passed such 
a soul-shaking hour. 


302. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


VItl 


It was the spy long since noted by Kelita who was tracking 
him. ‘This never tiring sleuth had been for long months on 
his trail. It was only through Kelita’s sleepless vigilance 
that the enterprise of this cunning enemy had failed. Through 
the spy’s representations small squads of soldiers were from 
time to time sent all over Galilee. He himself kept watch of 
Zatthu’s movements, told the soldiers where to find him, and 
more than once led them to the spot where he fully counted 
on capturing the outlaw and his two companions. 

But Kelita had an uncanny power of scenting danger. 
Again and again he had made Zatthu give up going to a vil- 
lage where he was expected but where he, Kelita, was sure 
Romans were in wait for him; or he had caused him to flee at 
midnight from some sheltering resort toward which his sensi- 
tive perception told him the enemy was drawing near. 

He was alert as ever now. When Zatthu reached the goat- 
herd’s house he found Kelita waiting for him just outside. 

“Have you been far?” was the hunchback’s query. 

“Only to the crest of the hill, a scant half mile away.” 

“Did you see any one there?” 

“Of course not.. Who would be in such an out-of-the-way 
spot, especially after nightfall?” 

“Some meddling knave — that wretch who wants to cap- 
ture you, perhaps.” 

“Quiet your suspicions. There was no one there.” 

“If I had always kept my suspicions quiet you would not 
be alive today. I scent mischief. We had better be going.” 

“No. I am tired — tired in body and mind. I want to 
sleep.” 

“Sleep then, but it must not be for long. Some one has 
been lurking round here. I feel it.” 


On a rude bed that had been made for him Zatthu dropped 


PART IV—-THE BROKEN HOPE 3038 


and sank instantly into a heavy slumber. He was too worn 
and weary to lie awake and brood as he so often did. 

Some two hours after midnight he was rudely roused by 
Kelita. Sound as he was slumbering he shook off his sleepi- 
ness in an instant. Too long had he lived a hunted life to let 
the spell of drowsiness ever bind him fast. 

“We must go,” said the hunchback. ‘‘We must go at once. 
It is not safe to linger here any longer.” 

In a few moments the three were cautiously making their 
way down the mountain side by a trail that led into the heart 
of Galilee. The road that skirted the base of the mountain 
they thought it best to avoid. To escape the eye at once of 
the curious and the hostile was their immediate end. 

The mountain was wooded only here and there. The stars 
were shining feebly now and the moon had set. It was with 
eyes peering steadily into the pale dim light that Kelita, who 
took the lead, walked cautiously on and the others followed. 
Suddenly he stopped. A hundred paces ahead was a copse of 
densely growing trees. From it a gentle breeze was blowing 
directly toward them. Kelita sniffed the air like a hound. 

“There are men in that thicket,” he whispered. “We must 
not go on.” 

“What shall we do?” said Zatthu in the.same muffled voice. 
“Go back?” 

“No. That rock will hide us. We will wait there and let 
them pass by.” 

Kelita pointed to a huge boulder that stood ten paces to 
one side of the path. They stole behind it and there watched 
and listened intently. 

“How do you know there are men in the thicket?” whis- 
pered Zatthu. 

“T got their scent. And once J heard just the faintest clink 
as if the scabbard of a sword had clashed against some piece 
of armor. Hark! You can hear them now.” 


304 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


All three listened. A low murmur of voices was clearly 
audible. 

“Could they have seen us?” Zatthu asked. 

“No, we were not near enough. But it was lucky we 
stopped when we did.” 

“Tt wasn’t luck. It was because you have the scent of a 
hound, the eye of an eagle, and the sharpest ear that ever a 
man possessed.” 

“Tf you had senses half as keen, you would have known 
that some one was watching you when you were on the top of 
the mountain. It is that vile dog of a spy. He found you 
and then went to get a band of soldiers. Perhaps he went all 
the way to Capernaum for them. They are resting in the 
thicket. Pretty soon they will come.out and go up to the 
house we left in the nick of time. They think they have us 
sure if they surround it before daylight. But let us not talk 
any more. We shan’t have to wait long before they pass by 
on their way up to the goatherd’s.” 

Kelita predicted truly. Before a half hour had gone by a 
small party of soldiers began to defile from the copse. It was 
still an hour before the first glimmer of daylight. The sol- 
diers meant to conceal themselves about the house of the goat- 
herd before their approach could be seen. 

With Roman discipline they came up the path, ten of them 
in all, silent, treading firmly but cautiously, on their guard 
against surprise. The glint of their armor, dimly visible for 
the moon was behind a cloud, showed that they were equipped 
for a soldier’s work. Since the episode at the Cesarea prison 
and the encounter at the pass the trio that had so worsted 
Roman legionaries had been looked upon as the doughtiest of 
enemies. To overpower them was a task to put men on their 
mettle. But the foe these men were in quest of was not hid- 
den. His whereabouts was known. They did not therefore 
think it necessary to be suspiciously watchful till they drew 
near the goatherd’s abode. So they passed by the big boulder 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 305 


behind which the three were lurking without dreaming that it 
was screening the very men they had been sent to find. 

Unfortunately the last of the ten was more vigilant than 
his comrades. When they were a few steps beyond the boul- 
der he glanced back and was sure he saw an object that might 
be a head, projecting beyond the dark stone mass for a mo- 
ment and then quickly withdrawn. At once he was fired with 
a desire to investigate. If he dropped behind and made an 
important discovery, the breach of discipline would be for- 
given. He resolved to try it. 

He was keen of sight and his eyes had not deceived him. 
The footsteps seeming to show that the file had passed, Sho- 
bek had thrust his head incautiously forth to watch them on 
their upward way. He saw however that the soldier in the 
rear turned and looked. He drew his head back, but he felt 
that he had been seen. Listening intently, he and his two 
comrades heard a stealthy footstep drawing near. 

The soldier was wary. He heard nothing; probably what 
had roused his suspicion was a trick of the darkness; still it 
was with drawn sword that he stole to the rear of the rock 
and looked. 

He had time to see nothing. In an instant Shobek had him 
by the throat and bore him to the ground. He was unable to 
ery out, but without trying to do so he had given the alarm. 
As he was seized he thrust violently with his sword. It did 
not touch Shobek but struck the bouider and fell with a clang 
to the stony ground. 

The noise just reached the ears of the decurion who was in 
charge of the ten and all his men. Faint though it was, it was 
just the noise to attract the attention of soldiers. They all 
stopped and turned about. The man who now was the hind- 
most perceived that the one who had been in his rear was 
missing. ‘The fact was told to the decurion. The soldiers all 
started for the rock. Instinctively they felt that behind it 
something that demanded attention was taking place. 


| 306 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“To the copse, as fast as you can!” said Kelita. “I will 
finish this fellow.”” And with his ever ready dagger he was 
about to give the fallen soldier a fatal thrust. 

“No,” said Shobek, ‘‘I have done for him,” and as he Oe 
he smote him on the head with the hilt of the sword which the 
man had dropped. He only stunned him but this was all he 
meant to do. ‘Terrific fighter though he was when life de- 
pended on it, he had not lost his native instincts of mercy. 

All this had taken but an instant. The three Hebrews 
darted to the path and down to the copse well ahead of their 
enemies; and they found themselves within the shelter of the 
thicket while the most advanced of their pursuers were a good 
many paces behind them. 

The copse was of walnut trees which grow plentifully in 
the higher regions of Palestine. Interspersed among them 
were low-growing bushes which together with the numerous 
tree trunks made concealment easy in the dark. Through 
the middle of the copse ran the path in a zigzag course for 
about a hundred paces. The woods also extended a good 
hundred paces on each side of it. 

“Follow me,” said Kelita the moment they were fairly inside 
the copse. “I know the spot and I know just where we can 
hide.” 

He turned abruptly to the right of the trail. Zatthu and 
Shobek followed. All three stepped with care so as not to 
give evidence of the direction they were taking. In a short 
time they came to a point where a low precipitous rocky 
formation brought the thicket to an end. Feeling his way 
cautiously, Kelita brought them to a spot where the rock was 
screened by a thick growth of shrubbery. This he parted 
and said in a whisper, 

“Down on your knees and creep into the hole you will 
find by feeling. It leads into a cave. I will come after you as 
soon as I have fixed the bushes so that they will not betray us.” 

Zatthu crept into the hole; Shobek followed him. A mo- 
ment later Kelita made his way in after them. 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 307 


IX 


They were in a cave the dimensions of which the inky black- 
ness did not enable them to measure. By groping about Zatthu 
found it was just high enough to let them stand erect and 
about ten paces in length by three in breadth. 

*“How can we ever know when it is safe to go out again?” 
inquired Zatthu. ‘The decurion will station men all about, 
and it would be risking much to crawl out and look around.” 

‘““Have no fear,” answered Kelita. ‘There’s another way 
out. And I doubt whether men will be stationed long. They 
will think we followed the trail, went straight through the 
wood and out on the other side. However, I mean to get away 
before they have any idea what has become of us.” 

‘There is another way out, you say?” 

“Yes, a low narrow winding way we shall have to crawl 
through. When we stopped at the goatherd’s the first time, 
I explored the whole country around, as I always do when we 
make a stay anywhere, so as to be ready for times of danger 
like this. It was then that I found the entrance to this cave 
we have just made use of, and I found too that the other end 
was a passage that led to an outlet on the side of the moun- 
tain about thirty paces away.” 

‘“‘We must hurry away. They might find the outlet in the 
daylight and daylight is coming soon.” 

“We will be off again before daylight. But we must stop 
here just a little while. That fellow you spared, Shobek, gave 
me a wound when he thrust at you. His sword cut through 
my left arm and opened a vein. I have been losing blood.” 

This was rather an alarming admission from Kelita, who 
never thought of himself. 

“Is it safe to have a light?” said Shobek, who always car- 
ried a flint and steel and some inflammable materials, from 
which a short-lived torch could be quickly made. 


308 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“T fear not,” said Kelita. “The shrubbery at the mouth 
of the cave is dense, yet a glimmer of light might shine 
through and betray us. We shall have to work in the dark.” 

So in the pitchy darkness Shobek produced from the pouch 
he always had with him a rude bandage and bound up Kelita’s 
hurt. A savage hurt it was, a deep cut in the upper left arm. 
But working under Kelita’s directions, Shobek succeeded in 
stopping the bleeding; and Kelita then declared that they 
must start at once. But when he tried to stand up and take 
the lead, he sank back and fell into a doze. The strain and 
the long wearing life of privation and the loss of blood had 
made him faint. 

Zatthu and Shobek did not dare to rouse him, perilous 
though the situation was. He slept on for the better part of 
an hour. Then he awoke with a start, groped about in the 
dark, came to himself and exclaimed in a tone of alarm, 

“How long have I been sleeping?” 

‘Perhaps half an hour,” answered Shobek. 

“Why did you let me? I am afraid it is light outside. I 
must crawl through the passage and see if the way is clear. 
You two must stay here. You couldn’t go as silently as I 
shall, and to make a noise might spoil everything. If every- 
thing is right, I will soon be back. If I don’t come back, wait 
and be watchful. If nothing happens, you will make your 
way to safety and everything will then be right.” 

“T can’t let you do this,” said Zatthu. “You might sacri- 
fice yourself for us.” 

“What could I do better than that? It would be for the 
cause. Iam goingnow. But don’t fear. All will be well.” 

Kelita felt his way to the opening at the cave’s end. Into 
it he went and through the narrow passage he crept as noise- 
lessly as a serpent. He was above all things anxious to find 
out whether the dawn had come. But this it would take some 
time to discover. Daylight cannot penetrate far into a nar- 
row channel that has a zig-zag course. Before he could ascer- 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 309 


tain this he knew he was to pass through a portion of the 
passage which was so much wider and higher as to form an- 
other cave, about as long as the one he had left and as wide as 
it was long. Even this would be pitchy dark, it was so far 
from the outlet on the side of the mountain. 

With confidence he wormed his way along toward this 
roomier spot. Altogether sure he felt that even if the outlet 
in the mountain side had been discovered — and he did not 
believe this possible — no one at any rate had yet penetrated 
into the dark uninviting channel and found the cavernous 
spaces to which it led. Still, it was well to be cautious. So 
he took pains to see that his progress did not create the 
smallest sound, even as much as the rustle of a garment. 

Every now and then he felt above and to one side. After 
doing this five or six times he found that the passage had be- 
come more roomy. This meant that he was near the smaller 
cave. Just a few feet more of crawling and he would be able 
to stand upright. But just as he became sure of this, he 
crouched down and kept absolutely still. A startling sound 
had reached his ear. It was the deep breathing of some crea- 
ture. Was that creature a man? Yes, for his keen ear de- 
tected a noise that could only be made by the brush of a gar- 
ment upon a hard surface such as that of a rock. 


310 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


x 


What could it mean? He thought hard as he lay im silence 
and listened intently. Quickly a conviction smote him. The 
man whose near presence he had detected was the spy. This 
man of fox-like cunning had discovered the outlet of the wind- 
ing passage. It must be daylight outside. The fellow had 
prowled about, found the hole in the mountain side and crept 
into it to see whither it led. Plainly he did not know of the 
entrance to the larger cave that was covered by the shrub- 
bery. He was simply exploring. If he got even a hint that 
the three fugitives were within his grasp, how eagerly would 
he worm his way back into the open and tell the Romans what 
would bring to him a purse of gold. 

Just where was he now? Kelita strained his ears to get 
every movement. The heavy breathing did not sound close 
by. The brushing of garments against the rocks continued 
for just a little longer. ‘Then it ceased and a long deep 
breath that was like a sigh of relief followed. Plainly the 
man had emerged from the contracted passage and was stand- 
ing upright. Yes, there could be no doubt of it. His soft 
catlike tread upon the rocky floor of the cave was just barely 
audible. 

What should Kelita do? One end he had and one only. 
He wanted to kill the spy. But how? The game was a des- 
perate one — a duel to the death in the dark. For a duel it 
was sure to be. It would be a miracle if he could strike the 
man down before making his presence known. Still, he would 
Thy. 

And the cave, so Kelita reasoned, was the place to do it, 
not the passage. There he would be more free to act. Per- 
haps he reasoned mistakenly. Had he lain still and let the 
man approach him, he could probably have pinioned him down 
and driven his knife home without danger to himself. But 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 311 


he was not one to waver between different plans. Promptly 
he made his choice and promptly he acted upon it. While his 
enemy was absorbed in finding the extent of the larger space 
into which he had suddenly come, Kelita crawled forward out 
of the passage with extremest caution. Every movement was 
made with perfect self-control and with that measured nicety 
and exactness with which a cat approaches an unseeing bird. 
Yet his action had not been slow and in less time that it takes 
one to count a hundred he was standing erect in the cave 
without having made his presence known to the man he was 
determined to kill. 

What was his best course now? The man THabnbrediy had 
a knife, but not in his hand. Kelita decided to stand still and 
wait till his enemy was close to him. Now that the spy was 
not seriously exerting himself his breathing was too quiet to 
be heard, but his tread would show when he was within arm’s 
length. In such a nice calculation Kelita’s sense of smell 
would also help him. At just the right moment he would 
grapple the man, throw him to the ground and despatch him 
with his knife. It was all hazardous, but he thought it could 
be done. 

So he stood still and waited. The spy — there was never 
the least doubt in his mind that it was the spy — was plainly 
making the circuit of the cave and guiding himself as he did 
so by keeping one or both of his hands upon the wall. He was 
feeling his way very slowly, but soon Kelita was in no doubt 
that he was coming towards him. Nearer and nearer he came. 
At last he got so close that his breathing was once more 
audible. Kelita waited for him to make just one more step 
and then threw himself at him to seize him and throw him to 
the earth. 

The effort was rightly timed. Just one thing prevented it 
from being successful. The man, as he groped his way along, 
kept so close to the wall that Kelita did not succeed in putting 
his arms around him. And the fellow had the quick wit that 


812 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


goes with low cunning. His face was toward the wall, against 
which he placed both hands ‘and lurched backward with all his 
might. Had Kelita been able to clasp him around the waist, 
he could have clung to him in spite of this violent backward 
thrust. But as he had not grasped him firmly, he was hurled 
backward with such force that he almost lost his balance. 
Even while he was recovering it his enemy whirled about and 
made a savage lunge at him with his knife and then darted 
back out of reach. 

The thrust was not ineffectual. It gave Kelita a wound in 
the breast which though not dangerous was deep enough to 
hamper and impede his movements. Moreover the cut in his 
arm had opened and he was conscious that he was bleeding 
again. He must think cunningly and act resolutely, or this 
fight would go against him — and then the fate of Zatthu and 
Shobek would be sealed. 

But his wit did not fail him. He knew he had to do with a 
knave who had no real stomach for fighting and whose one 
thought would be to get outside and tell the secret of the cave. 
This he would prevent. Possessed of a sense of direction that 
was like that of an animal, he darted across the cave to where 
he thought the outlet to the open must be, quickly found it 
and waited there for the coming of the spy. 

The spy’s own thought he had rightly read. The man’s 
one idea was to find the passage by which he had entered the 
cave and crawl through into the open with all possible speed. 
But he did not dare to seek it except by groping his way back 
along the wall. Exactly this he proceeded to do, and Kelita, 
as he waited at the outlet, interpreted his movements cor- 
rectly as he stood and listened. The fellow was feeling his 
way along and to Kelita’s sensitive ear was betraying a nerv- 
ous haste in doing so. 

But all of a sudden his movements stopped. Had he be- 
come alarmed at not hearing any sounds made by the one who 
had attacked him? Or was he now making his way so slowly 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 313 


and so carefully that his progress did not break the absolute 
stillness of the cave? Kelita decided that the former was the 
cause. ‘He has guessed that I am here,” he thought to him- 
self, “and is afraid to encounter me. I must find him then 
before my strength is spent.” 

Thinking hard Kelita became sure that the man’s posture 
would be one of defense. So as not to be seized, he would 
crouch low, with his knife firmly grasped, ready to give a 
vicious stab the moment he was sure his enemy was upon him. 
On that carefully reasoned conjecture he would act. It was 
hazardous to leave the entrance to the outer passage; but 
act he must or he might swoon from loss of blood. 

Stealthily and noiselessly he crept along the wall. By the 
time he had proceeded twice his own length he perceived that 
he was close to his enemy. Again his keenness of scent did 
him service. His plan was already formed. If the man was 
crouching low, a side push would topple him over and make 
him a prey to the knife. The moment had come to carry the 
plan into action. 

Again Kelita launched himself against his enemy. Again 
his conclusions had been sound and his movement perfectly 
well timed. The spy was crouching low and Kelita’s onset 
stretched him flat on the rocky floor. Exultingly, vindictively 
Kelita threw himself upon him and drove his knife home, once, 
twice, thrice. 

Then he rose, but he rose only by a masterful effort; and 
after trying to steady himself for a moment he sank down 
upon the ground. Even as the spy received Kelita’s savage 
stabs he had put his expiring strength into a thrust with his 
own keen blade. Kelita had won his victory at the cost of a 
terrible wound in the side. 

“TY am dying,” he murmured as he lay prone and bleeding. 
“Tf Zatthu and Shobek would only come before I am gone! 
I must warn them or they will be caught. I wonder if I could 
get to them. No, I couldn’t drag myself back. I should die 


314. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


or lose my senses before I got half-way. Oh, how glad I 
should be if I heard them coming. I want to say a few things 
to Zatthu before I die; and I want to be made sure that it 
was the spy I killed. I should die happier if I knew it was he, 
he was such a vile wretch and he has pestered us so long.” 

From sheer exhaustion he stopped speaking. He was so 
weak that he would have lapsed into unconsciousness but for 
dogged effort of will. But soon he caught a faint rustling 
sound in the passage. It grew more and more distinct, and 
he still had life enough to be thrilled at the thought that he 
was to speak with his friends once more. Lonely, secretive 
and vengeful, he had a burning passionate nature. Zatthu 
had roused all the affection and all the devotion he had to 
give. ‘The cause had been to him sacred. 'To die for its 
leader was a joy. 

“I am here,” he said as soon as he was sure that at least 
one of the two had emerged from the narrow passage; ‘“‘but 
I am badly hurt. Strike a light and come close to me.” 

“Badly hurt, Kelita?” inquired Zatthu anxiously; for he 
and Shobek were both now standing up in the cave. “Oh, I 
cannot believe that. We will come and help you right away.” 

By this time Shobek had lighted one of the tiny torches he 
carried. By the light of it he and Zatthu knelt down by the 
stricken hunchback with the deepest solicitude. Before they 
could do or say anything, he spoke again. 

‘The wound is in my side,” he said, “but do not look for it. 
You can see that I am near my end. I met the spy in here. 
I killed him, but he gave me my death wound. But look and 
see if it was really he. I shall die happier for knowing it.” 

Zatthu and Shobek took a hurried glance at the corpse. 
closeby, which they had barely noticed before, so wholly did 
Kelita fill their thoughts. 

“It was he,” said Shobek, “but he’ll never do any more 
harm.” 


“TY am glad of that. I hope I shan’t see him in Sheol. But 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 315 


the Romans will soon miss him. They may find their way in 
here as he did. Get away at once before they trap you. 
Goodbye.” 

The dying man gave Zatthu a look of deep affection and 
closed his eyes. 

“Kelita,” cried Zatthu in anguish of spirit, “it breaks my 
heart to lose you. And you have given your life for me!’ 

“For you... and for the cause,” said Kelita opening his 
eyes again while a smile came over his face. “I... was 
mereigladiy Sey tordont.7 

The eyes closed again. In a few moments he was gone. 
Overcome with grief Zatthu sat by his side in silence till 
Shobek said, 

“Tt is hard to leave him here, but his caution was wise. We 
may be trapped if we linger here. If the spy could find his 
way in here, others may do the same.” 

‘‘We could kill them one by one if they did. Why not stay 
till night comes again?” 

“TI dare not try it. We might kill one Roman if he made 
his way in here, but the place would be known. They would 
guard the opening and guard the copse. We should have to 
surrender or starve.” 

“Let us crawl to the outlet then and make a dash for free- 
dom. But T’ve no heart for anything now that Kelita is 
gone.” aay ‘ 


316 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


XI 

The torch had showed the entrance to the outer passage. 
Through the narrow winding channel Shobek crept, with 
Zatthu close behind him. After they had made two sharp 
turns they had a faint glimpse of daylight. Two turns more 
brought them to the opening in the side of the mountain. 

Very cautiously Shobek peered forth. No one was in sight, 
but his view was quite contracted. Crawling out on his hands 
and knees he ensconced himself in a low growth of shrubbery 
close to the opening. Thence he was able to take in the lower 
side of the copse opposite to that which he and Zatthu and 
Kelita had entered the previous night. Two soldiers emerged 
from the copse, looked about and went back again. 

They are watching the trail on both sides of the copse,” 
Shobek argued. ‘Probably they are guarding the copse on 
every side, thinking we have found a hiding place in it. But 
I think I can outwit them.” 

He made his way back to Zatthu and proposed his plan. 
It was that he should show himself so as to attract the atten- 
tion of the soldiers, draw them all in pursuit of him and that 
Zatthu should then go in a different direction when no one 
was on the lookout for him. 

“Y will not suffer it,” said Zatthu. ‘‘Kelita has given his 
life for me. You shall not give yours.” 

“But this is the safest course for both of us. Alone I can 
leave them far behind when they pursue me. If you were with 
me they might overtake us and we should have to fight.” 

“Y can run fast too. It is not for nothing that I have been 
speeding up hill and down through these long months.” 

“But the Roman soldiers are all well trained and you are 
worn by this life and by all the discouragements you have 
had. I can see you are. My plan, I tell you, is the safe one. 
I am going to act upon it. I am going to dash up the moun- 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 317 


tain, for I can keep my breath when I run up hill, and they 
will soon lose theirs. When they have started after me, do 
you take the path down the hill and make your way to 
Gischaia. I’ll find you there tomorrow or the day after that.” 

Zatthu resisted no longer. He was, as Shobek said, much 
worn by his life of excitement and constant journeying; 
against Shobek’s insistency he was not proof. He ended the 
discussion by saying wearily, 

“I am tired of havine my friends sacrifice themselves for 
me. But it shall be as you say.” 

The sun was about an hour high. They had brought food 
with them from the goatherd’s and they now partook of it. 
Water they wished but for that they must wait. Their hun- 
ger satisfied, Shobek got Zatthu to station himself in the 
shrubbery near the opening, whence he could watch the course 
of things. He himself proceeded to carry out his part of the 
program; but he did not do it exactly as he had given Zatthu 
reason to expect. 

He thought it extremely unlikely that the whole detach- 
ment of soldiers would start in pursuit of him the moment he 
was seen. The decurion, if he was a man of intelligence, would 
send some of his men to overtake him but would hold part of 
them back to be on the watch for the other fugitives. It must 
be Shobek’s part to create confusion and get the interest of all 
so centered on himself that Zatthu could steal away unnoticed. 
This meant danger to himself, but of that he recked not. 
And he did not consider the danger great. One thing he noted 
when the soldiers filed by the night before. They had no 
spears. He could come to close quarters with them without 
fear of being struck down by a missile. 

So instead of making straight for the path he stole cau- 
tiously toward the copse itself. As he crept noiselessly along 
he armed himself with two good-sized stones which he easily 
carried in his huge left hand. On the upper side of the copse 
were two men pacing back and forth, not very near to each 


318 ZATTHU--A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


other and not closely observant. Stealing up behind the 
nearest of these, he made a quick onset, took him unawares 
and threw him violently to the ground. Then with a loud 
shout he rushed at the other sentinel who was hurrying to 
the assistance of his stunned and prostrate comrade. 

Seeing this tall powerful figure dashing at him like a demon 
and yelling as he did so, the Roman, doubtless rather sur- 
prised than alarmed, slowed his pace and stood on the de- 
fensive. This was just what Shobek wanted. When he was 
hardly more than arm’s length away he hurled one of his 
stones with terrific force. It struck the man squarely in the 
breastplate and sent him reeling to the earth. 

By this time all the Romans in the copse were hurrying into 
the open. Still shouting, Shobek dashed at the nearest one 
and felled him with the second stone. 'Then he dashed up the 
mountain side for a few paces, but only to turn again. He 
wanted to make such a diversion that Zatthu could be abso- 
lutely sure of escaping observation as he made his own start 
down the mountain. Picking up another stone he rushed at 
the man who was foremost in the pursuit. He too quailed. 
Roman discipline had not trained its soldiers to face such a 
mad antagonist who fought according to no recognized rules 
of warfare. This man also reeled backward under the force 
of the rocky missile. Before he could recover himself and be- 
fore any of his comrades could get at Shobek with their 
swords, he was off again and bounding up the mountain side 
like a deer. 

So absorbed had Zatthu been in watching this strange 
encounter that he almost neglected his own opportunity to 
escape. But as he saw Shobek finally dart away without 
turning back, he realized that it was quite time for him to 
act. So he stole out of the shrubbery toward the trail. The 
descent was at this point sharp. The ground screened him 
from sight, and the trail was not far off. From the lower 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 319 


side of the copse it wound directly toward the shrubbery in 
which he had been hiding. 

Reaching the trail, he paused a moment and looked around. 
He was now behind a spur which hid from view the upper side 
of the copse and all that was happening there. He could 
only conjecture that Shobek was distancing his pursuers. 
But the lower side of the copse was in sight. No Roman how- 
ever was to be seen there. Shobek’s mancuvre had plainly 
engrossed the attention of all the soldiers. Confidently 
Zatthu started at a swift pace down the trail. 

His confidence would have been disturbed had he looked 
around just before the trail made a final turn that hid him 
from view. For had he done so he would have seen one of the 
soldiers setting forth in pursuit of him. It was indeed the 
same one who had discovered the three behind the rock the 
night before. His head still suffered from the terrific blow 
Shobek had dealt him, but he was by no means disabled and 
with the rest he had started after Shobek when the big Hebrew 
had made his diversion in Zatthu’s favor. But he was quick- 
witted and he soon saw it was a ruse. Where were the other 
two fugitives, for three in all there were known to be? He 
rushed down to the lower edge of the copse and peered eagerly 
forth. There to his great satisfaction he got sight of the 
vanishing Zatthu. Without waiting to report his discovery 
he dashed down the mountain to overtake him. 

Running rapidly for a while Zatthu passed into an exten- 
sive tract of woodland that covered the lower part of the 
mountain. Here he felt that he was really safe and so let his 
run become a walk. 

But hardly had he done so before he heard rapid steps 
behind him. Could this be Shobek? He looked round to 
ascertain. The trail was too winding to let him see his pur- 
suer perfectly, but he caught the gleam of armor through the 
trees. No, it was not Shobek. It was one of the Romans. 


320 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


Perhaps others were coming directly after him. He must try 
to outdistance them. 

He was fleet of foot and he ran swiftly. But the Roman 
was fleeter still. The footsteps were plainly coming nearer. 
Should he then run at the very height of his speed? That — 
would be folly, for in a very short time he would be utterly 
out of breath. He must trust in Jehovah; and as his prayer 
mounted to the God of his people he thought how Asahel fol- 
lowed after Abner and met a sorrowful end. For “Asahel 
was as light of foot as a wild roe. And Asahel pursued after 
Abner, and in going he turned not to the right hand nor to 
the left from following Abner. Then Abner looked behind him 
and said, Art thou Asahel? And he answered, I am. And 
Abner said to him, Turn thee aside to thy right hand or to 
thy left, and lay thee hold on one of the young men, and take 
thee his armour. . .. Howbeit he refused to turn aside; 
wherefore Abner with the hinder end of the spear smote him 
under the fifth rib, that the spear came out behind him; and 
he fell down there and died.” 

Without repeating all of these words as they are written 
in Samuel, Zatthu recalled vividly the story and felt that it 
should guide his own course of action, strange though that 
action might seem. So, as his pursuer gained on him, he 
turned about and in the name of Jehovah bade him stop. His 
command was of course received with astonishment and 
utterly disregarded. Indeed it only served to make the 
Roman increase his speed. A second time Zatthu uttered his 
behest. A second time it was unheeded and the steps drew 
very near. There was naught for Zatthu to do but follow 
Abner’s example. 

He looked back and saw that his pursuer was scarcely three 
paces behind him. Drawing his sword he darted nimbly to 
one side and made a half turn as he did so. The Roman too 
had unsheathed his own weapon in preparation for the con- 
flict he saw coming; but he had no chance to use it. Zatthu’s 


PART IV—T'HE BROKEN HOPE 321 


movement was so sudden and unexpected that the Roman 
could not on the instant turn and guard himself. His impetus 
carried him along and with a powerful stroke Zatthu smote 
him on the shoulderblade as he was passing by. The sword 
cut deep. Zatthu could not withdraw it, and the man, after 
making a brave effort to stay himself, fell upon the ground. 

Zatthu would gladly have seen a whole host of Romans 
swallowed by an earthquake or laid low by the avenging 
swords of Israel; but he had no heart for a murderous single 
combat such as this. He bent over the man in pity. 

“TY am sorry I had to lift my hand against you,” he said. 
“Ts your hurt deadly?” 

“You cut deep. I have not long to live,” the Roman an- 
swered, opening the eyes which weakness had made him close. 

‘Are you suffering much?” 

“T am too faint to feel much pain. But I thirst; oh, how I 
thirst. A draft of water would make me die happy.” 

“You shall have it. There is water near. I can just hear 
the ripple of a stream.” 

Zatthu undid the soldier’s helmet and carefully removed it. 
Dashing into the woods he quickly brought it back full of 
clear cool water and helped the Roman to drink. The 
wounded man murmured his thanks, and was so far revived 
that after a moment he spoke. 

“It was I,” he said, “who discovered you and your com- 
rades behind the rock last night. Would I had not done so. 
I have only brought about my own death and you will go free. 
You always escape us. I believe that strange God you wor- 
ship protects you.” 

“fe surely does. Sometime He will give us the strength to 
vanquish Rome.” 

“T do not see how that can be. Rome is too great. But I 
am growing too weak to talk. You have slain me, but you 
have been kind and I bear you no ill will. Almost do I hope 


322 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


that you will not be taken. You would be crucified if you fell 
into our hands.” 

“You are a brave man and a good one. Would that you 
had not followed me and come to your death.” 

The soldier smiled feebly and closed his eyes. In a few 
moments he drew one last deep breath and passed away. 

Zatthu had been kneeling beside him. He made sure that 
no spark of life remained and then looked at the calm dead 
face remorsefully. It weighed upon his soul that he had 
brought a brave man to his end. Questions began to crowd 
in upon his mind. This man was a Roman and a heathen. 
But he was brave; he had been forgiving. Would the mighty 
Jehovah have no compassion for this soul that had passed 
into the vast unknowable beyond? 

But this was no time for such reflections. He would cover 
the man with earth. That rite of decency he fairly owed him. 
Then he would hasten on his way. 

With a strong effort that he made with much inward 
shrinking he pulled his sword from the body and took a few 
steps into the wood. Hastily he made a shallow grave by 
scraping away the leaves and the soil beneath them and went 
back to the path. He was stooping over to lift up the body, 
when he was startled by a shout. Looking up he saw three 
more of the Romans hastening toward him. ‘They had been 
trotting easily along; their footsteps had not been heavy; 
absorbed as he was in his self-imposed honorable service to a 
fallen foe, he had not heard their approach. 

He drew his sword. He would not fly; neither would he 
be captured. If this was to be the end, let it come. His soul 
was weary through long waiting, hairbreadth escapes, and 
hope endlessly deferred. Planting himself against a stout oak 
he made ready for the death wound that was sure to come. 

“Yield your sword,” cried one of the Romans, as the three 
stood facing him. 

“You can have it when you have killed me.” 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 323 


“We would not kill you. We only want to capture you. 
We are three to one. Surrender.” 

‘And be crucified? Never.” 

Thus answering, Zatthu struck fiercely at the man who was 
nearest. ‘The stroke was parried and the fight began. For 
Zatthu it had but one object, to be killed. But this was 
exactly what his opponents wished not to do. Their thrusts 
and blows were feebly given. Their aim was to inflict mere 
flesh wounds that would cause exhaustion. Perceiving this 
Zatthu fought like a demon to force them into giving the 
deadly Roman stab. He was no mean swordsman. He was 
roused to fury and he put all his strength into long sweeping 
strokes that parried the ineffectual thrusts made at him and 
into vigorous blows at any one who came well within his reach. 

But the fight was too unequal to last long. He received 
two troublesome though not dangerous wounds. He realized 
that one or two more would bring him to the ground helpless 
but without a mortal hurt; and the thought maddened him 
to fight with still greater desperation. Almost like a circle of 
light his sword flew around him and almost incessant was its 
clang upon the swords or breastplates of his foes, when the 
fight came to an end as suddenly as it had begun. 

Leaping up, as it seemed to Zatthu’s astonished eyes, from 
the very ground, a tall figure assailed the three Romans from 
behind. ‘Two were thrown violently to the earth before they 
could realize what was happening and the third received a 
disabling blow on the sword arm. Instantly his sword was 
snatched from his feeble grasp; and the swords of the other 
two were also seized, their owners not having been able to 
clasp them securely as they crashed upon the ground. And 
then, to complete his triumph, the alert Shobek — for Sho- 
bek it was who had made such a timely appearance — pos- 
sessed himself of the blade of the dead soldier whose body was 
still lying close at hand. 

The two fallen men rose slowly to their feet. All three of the 


324 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


Romans stood cowed and discomfited. ‘They were ashamed 
to give up the contest, yet they had no weapons with which 
to fight. And what did it avail to fight with this terrible 
enemy who was like some fiend in human guise? For in the 
towering figure before them they recognized the man who had 
escaped from them only half an hour earlier after overpower- 
ing two or three of their number, and whose deeds of prowess 
were told and wonderfully magnified in all the Roman posts 
of Palestine. 

“Go!” said this awesome enemy as they stood hesitating. 
“Go!” he repeated in a loud commanding voice. ‘This man 
you would gOS: 1S DES oss by the God of Israel. You 
cannot harm him.” 

“We are not afraid of Israel’s God,” said one of the men 
sullenly, “but a man can’t stand up against a demon like 
you.” 

“T am but a man as you are, but my people’s God Jehovah 
gives me power to strike down every hand that is raised 
against this savior of my nation. So go! I am tired of kill- 
ing Romans.” 

The taunt kindled a faint spark of resistance. The men 
looked questioningly at each other. But no one of them had 
any heart to renew the fray. 

“We will go,” said the spokesman, “but my comrade’s 
wound must be cared for first and this other, whom your 
friend seems to have done to death, must be buried.”’ 

“You shall do both things. We Hebrews have hearts. 
We are sorry for the wounded; we respect the dead.” 

“Amen to that!” said Zatthu. “He was a braveman. His 
grave is dug. It is ready for him yonder,” and he pointed 
into the woods. 

One of the Romans tore strips from his tunic and the 
wounded arm was bound so as to stop the bleeding. Then 
the two who were unhurt lifted their dead comrade and guided 
by Zatthu placed him in the shallow grave. Shobek and 


PART IV—-THE BROKEN HOPE 325 


Zatthu stood by as the earth was placed over the body. All 
thought of strife and enmity was banished by the solemnity 
of the scene. 

When the rude burial was completed, the three Romans 
looked wonderingly at their conquerors, as if they would fain 
see how these men of a despised race could overpower the 
trained legionaries of Rome. Then with slow dogged steps 
they took their unwilling course toward the copse on the side 
of the mountain. 


326 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


XII 


‘‘Where did you come from, Shobek?” inquired Zatthu, as 
soon as it was apparent that the Romans would trouble them 
no more. “If David or Gideon had suddenly appeared, I 
should not have been more astounded.” 

“Y will tell you when I have looked to those wounds of 
yours. You are bleeding. Let me see how much you are 
hurt.” 

‘Tt isn’t serious,” he said after a brief examination. ‘That 
cut below the thigh will make you limp when you walk, and 
that stab in the armpit would have been a nasty one had it 
gone a little deeper. But I will dress both the hurts and 
stop their bleeding.” 

This was quickly done and the two then sat down beneath 
the oak which had given Zatthu protection in his fray with 
the three harassing assailants. 

“My story is a simple one,” began Shobek in answer to the 
question Zatthu had put to him. “I soon outran my pur- 
suers — all but one. Him I faced and bore down upon with 
all my might. He thrust savagely at me as I got within 
arm’s length, but I knocked up his sword and sent him sprawl- 
ing. Looking back as I ran on again, I saw him rise and 
limp back toward his comrades. Then I hastened along, 
passed the goatherd’s, reached the top of the mountain and 
took the downward path. But having shaken off my pur- 
suers, I veered off in the direction of the copse to see if I 
could be of help to you. After a time I came to a point where 
the trail I knew you must be following was visible just before 
it passes into these woods. Passing along it at no very rapid 
pace, I saw our three friends who have just parted from us 
so unwillingly. That means mischief, I thought; and I clam- 
bered rapidly down to the edge of the woods that I might 
hurry through them and strike the trail. Soon the ring of 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 327 


swords faintly struck my ear. The sound guided me and — 
well, you know the rest.” 

“TY know you reached me in the nick of time. Those fellows 
were really playing with me, for they were sure they had me 
at their mercy. If they had tried hard enough, they would 
have had me down before you came. As to the one who lies 
buried yonder, I got the better of him by stepping quickly to 
one side just as he overtook me, and smiting my sword deep 
into his shoulder close to the neck. I was just going to carry 
him to the grave I had made when the other three bore down 
upon me.” 

“The one you killed, then, was a good way ahead of his 
fellows?” 

“Yes, he was the one who discovered us behind the rock last 
night. I talked with him a little before he died. He must 
have spied me and dashed off in pursuit.” 

“And the other three, no doubt, were sent on by the decu- 
rion after the first who got track of you was missed.” 

‘They must have missed the spy long since. I wonder if 
they will find out what became of him.” 

“TY hardly think it. They will think we have all escaped 
and give up the search. A hundred years hence perhaps some 
one will find the two skeletons in the cave and wonder how 
they came there.” 

“T am grieved at heart when I think of Kelita. He gave 
his life for me. He was always faithful and true.” 

*“Remember, he gave it gladly. It was for the cause. Every 
true Hebrew would do the same. But we must not talk any 
more. We must go on our way before your wounds are stiff. 
The Romans may yet come after us again.” 

“Shall we go to Gischaia?” 

“We will go in that direction. Somewhere in these northern 
hills of Galilee we must hide ourselves till this little storm is 
spent. Perhaps some new place of shelter will show itself.” 

They started forth, keeping a watchful eye on the path 


828. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


_ behind them and progressing slowly, for Zatthu’s wounded 
leg made rapid motion painful. ‘The trail soon brought them 
to a rough road along which they proceeded some two miles. 
Finding a shady spot they rested several hours while the sun 
was high and made a midday meal from the food they had 
brought from the goatherd’s, but the last of which they now 
consumed. ‘They had lost all fear of pursuit and saw no rea- 
son for hurrying. 

Late in the afternoon they resumed their journeying. ‘The 
road they were following skirted the base of the mountain on 
which they had had such a series of adventures and then 
wound its way upward into the higher lands. When they 
reached the point where they had to climb, their progress 
became very slow. Though supported by his stalwart com- 
rade Zatthu walked with much difficulty. 

“‘We shall not reach Gischaia tonight,” said Shobek, after 
they had mounted a short distance. “But no matter. I had 
not expected it. The town is several miles away. We must 
find shelter in some friendly hut like that of the goatherd.” 

“These hills are wooded. We shall find no dwellings in 
them.” 

“Oh, yes, we shall. We shall come to open stretches where 
the land is tilled and sheep and goats find pasture. It is hard 
to walk with such an ugly wound. But courage! We have 
been in worse straits than this.” 

“YT do not mind the pain and I have no fears for myself. 
I am only thinking how I bring trouble to my friends — and 
all for nothing.” 

“Drive all such thoughts away. Our cause is Jehovah’s. 
Tt must win.” 

They climbed on in silence. The sun was now very low. 
Trees of a goodly size lined the road on either side and kept 
it in deep shadow. Just as they made a sharp turn in it they 
were confronted by three men who stepped out from the thick- 
growing forest. 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 329 


“Stop,” said one of them, “and give up your money.” 

‘“What if we have none?” questioned Shobek. 

“Then everything that’s worth money.” 

‘What if we choose to fight?” 3 

“Your friend is lame. You are no match for three.” 

“Be not too sure. I have laid low more than three, single- 
handed.” 

“But not more than ten.” 

Thereupon the man gave a shrill whistle and his allies began 
to emerge from the woods. The band mustered twelve in all — 
every one of them unkempt, coarsely clad, with a sullen face 
that bespoke a lawless mind and a burning sense of wrong. 

“Now I think you’ll have no stomach for fighting,” said the 
leader with a grim smile. 

“No,” said Zatthu, “‘we have no wish to fight. Why should 
men fight who are brothers in arms?” 

“Brothers? What do you mean?” 

“Would not Rome crucify you if it caught you?” 

“Yes, and it would waste no time in doing it.” 

“Tt would do the same to me and to this friend of mine.” 

“Why? What have you done?” 

“T have stirred up strife against Rome. We have both of 
us killed Roman soldiers.” 

“Ah, you are Zatthu then. Yes, I know you now,” said 
the outlaw coming close and peering into Zatthu’s face. “We 
have met before.” 

“Yes, we have met before, for you are Barabbas.” 

‘You remember me then?” 

“Yes, I placed you as soon as you spoke. I do not easily 
forget a voice.” 

‘And you must bear in mind that our meeting brought me 
and my friends nothing good. You took from me the plunder 
that was within my grasp.” 

“Yes, I kept you from doing one deed of violence. Have 
you not done enough?” 


330 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“Look at us and see,” said Barabbas with a grim laugh. 
‘““Would you say we were in the lap of plenty?” 

Zatthu did not answer at once. He scrutinized the whole 
band for a moment and then said, 

“You look as if the life you led brought you little but 
misery and want. Why not change it? If I raised the ban- 
ner of insurrection, would you march under it?” 

‘‘Would it bring us spoil and plenty of it?” 

“Perhaps; but it would bring you something better — 
freedom. Speak, all of you! Do you not hate Rome?” 

“Yes, yes,’’ came the answer, like a hoarse growl, from 
every throat. 

“Then let us make common cause against this hateful foe 
that has taken our liberty away and would crucify us if it 
got us in its cruel grasp.” 

The men did not know how to answer this appeal but looked 
to their leader. He shook his head and said, 

“We'll fight Rome when we see you heading an army that 
will drive these cursed Romans into the Dead Sea. Go and 
raise it. By good rights you ought to hand over to me all 
the money you’ve got and everything that’s worth money, 
you did me and my fellows such an ill turn at the foot of 
Carmel. But we won’t rob you. We have some feeling for a 
man Rome wants to crucify. Go your way.” 

“No, let us go your way. I cannot walk much farther, and 
I want food and shelter for the night.” 

“You talk of overthrowing Rome and you ask a band of 
outlaws to take youin! That does not look to me like break- 
ing the Roman power. But so be it. We’ll share what we 
have with you; but we don’t sit down to a feast or sleep in a 
palace. Come this way.” 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 331 


XIII 


Leaning on Shobek Zatthu limped painfully after Barabbas 
and his crew as they took their course through the forest. 
But the outlaws walked slowly out of regard to Zatthu’s con- 
dition. ‘Two or three of them even offered to make him a 
litter. But this he would not let them do. He knew he could 
best win a place in their regard by making light of pain and 
hardship. 

In less than an hour they came to the lair of the robbers. | 
It was an open space in the dense woodland growth, sur- 
rounded by a screen of rocks and high up in the hills. Here 
the men had built rude huts that protected them from inclem- 
ent weather, and in one of these Zatthu was made as com- 
fortable as this barren and primitive manner of living allowed. 
Food of a coarse kind was not lacking. The outlaws were 
expert hunters and brought in all manner of game. With 
the money they wrested from unfortunate wayfarers they 
bought grain from those who raised it and rudely ground it 
themselves. It was a law with them not to rob and plunder 
the poor. Those who tilled a scanty patch or raised a few 
sheep and goats were exempt from their depredations. 

Able to rest and relieved from immediate anxiety Zatthu 
recovered from his hurts. Yet the recovery was slow. His 
mind was not tranquil and his body was in a worn and feverish 
state. Long hours he lay still and brooded over all that had 
happened since the iron hand of Rome was laid on him in the 
streets of Jerusalem. More than once he had been delivered, 
miraculously delivered it would seem, from deadly peril. Did 
this point to the protecting care of Israel’s God? It must 
be so. And yet what had he really accomplished in these 
weary months of waiting, hiding, darting from place to place 
and uttering fervent appeals to a faint-hearted people? 


3382) ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


Nothing; really nothing. ‘That was the bitter fact he had 
to face. 

His star, which to his own eager trustful vision had risen 
brightly, was now very dim. The star of another was shining 
with an ever growing lustre. Wherever he went he found 
what was brought home to him so forcibly at Safed — Jesus 
of Nazareth had won the people’s hearts. Had he been wholly 
mistaken in his judgment of this man? Could it really be that 
this friend of the publicans and the unclean, this worker of 
cures through some strange art, this stealer of men’s hearts 
through subtle speech, was Jehovah’s messenger to a down- 
trodden people? He could not think it. He could not think 
it. Yet Jesus of Nazareth’s power was growing daily while 
his had become like a sapling leveled in a storm. 

Thoughts like these sometimes rushed in upon him like a 
tide. Made despondent, almost despairing, by them, he would 
then let his mind dwell on the happy days he spent in the 
home of Aristarchus. He felt the spell of Thisoa’s ardor, 
Thisoa’s beauty, Thisoa’s charm. Feeling surged up in him 
and swayed him mightily. It told him in peremptory com- 
manding tones that he had chosen wrong. His own conceit 
had misled him utterly. He had thought to be another Moses ; 
he found himself only a common man. Not for him the 
mighty deed and the acclaim of a triumphant people, but 
only a quiet peaceful home. Yes, only a home, but what joy, 
what ecstasy there was in that simple thought! There his 
wife would be “as a fruitful vine,” his children would grow 
up in the fear of Jehovah, and measureless blessing would 
crown every passing year. There he would have such daily 
companionship and such unfailing sympathy as the high- 
spirited daughter of Aristarchus had given him day by day. 
In such moods he longed for Thisoa with an agonized longing, 
even as he had done when he looked forth from the hill crest 
in the moonlight and saw the gleaming waters of Gennesaret. 

But too entire had been his consecration to his lofty pur- 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 333 


pose to be easily or quickly set aside. When these tides of 
feeling mastered him they were again succeeded by states of 
penitence in which he condemned himself unsparingly for los- 
ing his faith in Jehovah and Jehovah’s cause. Self-reproach- 
ful, he would then talk with Shobek, who was never wanting 
in courage and calm confidence; and he mingled with the out- 
laws and listened to their talk. From time to time, he found, 
they shifted their place of refuge to avoid discovery. When 
they attacked the caravan of Aristarchus their lair was on the 
wooded slopes of Carmel. But prying bands of Roman sol- 
diers forced them to find quarters elsewhere; and for some 
time they had made this well-sheltered spot in northern Gali- 
lee their vantage ground. 

Zatthu studied them and lent a ready ear to their tales. 
Their unwillingness to rob the poor he noted with approval. 
For every sign that pointed to kindness and good feeling he 
looked eagerly. For he was trying to persuade himself that 
Jehovah himself had guided him to this band of outcasts. Ever 
the thought of David and the cave of Adullam came to his 
mind. There David gathered the needy, the broken and the 
adventurous and made himself a captain over them. Was not 
he, Zatthu, to turn these outcasts into followers of himself and 
swell the little company into an army of patriots burning to 
free Zion from the tyranny of Rome? He tried hard to think 
so. He forced himself to think so. And then, when by sheer 
persistency of will he had anchored himself in this conviction, 
the thought of Thisoa would flood in overwhelmingly and he 
would long for her in the very inmost of his soul. 

Thus faith warred with feeling in a wearing, never ceasing 
conflict. But the faith grew fainter and the feeling more 
insurgent as the days went by. 


334. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


XIV 


A whole month passed and still Zatthu lingered with the 
outlaws. It was now the early part of Zif, the English May, 
when the country was green from the spring rains and the 
harvest fields were ripening. The freshness of the vegetation, 
and the genial air of spring would have tempted Zatthu to be 
active once again had his old-time zeal still glowed within him. 
But its fire was so nearly dead that he preferred to spend his 
time in talking with Barabbas and his followers instead of 
planning how to renew his wonted activities. 

With Barabbas he had many a long interview. He was 
grateful to him for burying the past instead of exacting 
vengeance for Zatthu’s interference in behalf of Aristarchus. 
The man was not indeed hard to read. He had adopted with- 
out any reserve or exceptions the outlaw’s code. With the 
social and political order he was at war. Deep in his mind 
was the conviction which in every civilized land has turned 
men into criminals — the conviction that the state owes the 
individual a generous subsistence, but the individual owes 
nothing to the state. This idea well fixed, the natural thing 
is for the individual to help himself if the state will not live 
up to its obligation. So feeling and so thinking, Barabbas 
was proceeding to help himself; but he did so without rancor 
or vindictiveness. Beneath his surliness was a rough kindli- 
ness that made him befriend the poor and sometimes even pity 
the men he robbed. “This man,” thought Zatthu, “‘would 
have cleaved to King David and respected him for cutting off 
his sovereign’s skirt instead of killing him when he was sleep- 
ing in the cave.” 

More interesting were others of the outlaw band whose 
natures were more complex and whose minds were not so easily 
fathomed. ‘There was Amok, dubbed ‘“‘the Smiler” by his 
comrades, who made a jest of everything and kept the whole 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 335 


crew in laughter. Was there any serious vein below this light- 
heartedness? Zatthu thought there was and after many 
talks with the fellow he felt sure that he had found it. Again 
there was Zichri the taciturn, known as “Tight-shut,” whom 
he had to labor much with to get him to speak at all. But he 
did at last draw him out and he satisfied himself that there 
was in him a sense of loyalty which would make him go 
through pain and want rather than betray a comrade, and 
which could, in a great national uprising, be kindled into 
loyalty to the state. And then, most interesting of all, there 
was the churlish, fierce and truculent Mispereth, not inaptly 
called Beelzebub. For this man’s appearance was as forbid- 
ding as his speech, and his speech was always vituperative 
and harsh. He had a low brow, a cruel cunning eye, and fea- 
tures that were coarse and repulsive even through his heavy 
beard. When a foray was planned, Mispereth demanded with 
many oaths that no mercy should be shown to the victims of 
their raid however defenceless they might be. When they re- 
turned, he gloated over the gains if they were large and 
cursed those who had been robbed if their possessions had 
been scanty and unsatisfying. Once, after a man had been 
killed for resisting, and some who had been concerned in the 
foul deed had expressed a mild regret, Mispereth accused 
them of cowardice and expressed a savage delight in the atro- 
cious murder. 

It was Zatthu’s belief that even in this man there existed 
some spark of human feeling. He could not be wholly and 
absolutely vile. Long he worked to see the spark glimmer 
and to kindle it into a glow. And at last he found it. Mis- 
pereth really had a tender feeling for children. This Zatthu 
discovered with great difficulty, for it was far from easy to 
make him talk. But he persisted in seeking him out and ques- 
tioning him so freely that the man could not help responding, 
however grudgingly; and finally he elicited from him com- 
ments that showed the one soft spot in his stony nature. 


386 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


And the feeling, so hard to discern, found expression one day 
when the band returned from a successful but happily a blood- 
less expedition. As the assault upon a small party of way- 
farers was discussed, Mispereth said: “I’d have stabbed that 
fellow that struggled so hard if it had not been for that boy 
of his. But I didn’t want to make the little chap cry.” 

Having become more of a student of men than a reforming 
zealot, Zatthu spent many hours in this savage man’s com- 
pany. Sometimes the man was very gruff and repellant. 
Sometimes he seemed to melt a little and to show a liking for 
a human intercourse such as he had certainly never had before. 
Little by little, Zatthu flattered himself, he was finding a way 
to his heart. 

One night after he had spent a little more than a month 
with these strange associates, he was wakened from sleep a 
little after midnight by Shobek. The two had for their own 
shelter a small hut which Shobek had himself constructed and 
which was a little more impervious to wind and rain than the 
lodgings put together by the outlaws. As only they two were 
in it, they could speak in low tones and move about quietly 
without attracting attention. 

“Wake up,” said Shobek in a whisper as he shook Zatthu 
lightly. “Wake up, but make no noise. We are in danger.” 

Zatthu was wide awake and alert in an instant. 

‘“What is wrong?” he whispered. 

“These men whom you have been trying to make friends of 
are going to betray you. You know I have warned you a 
good many times that they could not be trusted.” 

“T know you have, but I felt sure I was getting their liking. 
Are they all turning against me?” 

“Not all. Enough to carry out their plan.” 

‘“Who’s hatched the plan? Barabbas?” 

“No, Mispereth. I don’t belieye Barabbas himself knows 
of it or would fall in with it.” 

‘But they could carry it through in spite of him?” 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 337 


BS egic” 

*“How do you know?” 

“TY have been watching Mispereth and growing more and 
more suspicious of him for several days. He has been much 
with some of the worst of this crew and I was sure they were 
plotting something. After dark tonight I crept back of the 
hut that Mispereth and his two special comrades sleep in. It 
is full of cracks and holes like all these shanties. I put my 
ear to a small opening and listened. Their talk was alarm- 
ing, I can assure you; but it grew more so. Five more of the 
crew came to the hut, one by one. When they were all there, 
the plan was talked over bit by bit. As they don’t want a 
fight, they are going to come here in the early morning and 
overpower both of us before we are fully roused and bind us 
fast. Then they will take us to some Roman post, and get the 
reward that has been offered for us both.” 

“But Rome wants them, too. They would be seized and 
put to death.” 

“They will be too cunning. They know their danger and 
will not put themselves in the power of Rome without making 
sure that their crimes will be forgiven because of the captives 
they deliver up. I think they mean to take us to Capernaum. 
Marcus has such a name for honor and fair dealing that they 
would trust him to stand by any word he gave them.” 

“Well, let them carry out their plan. Perhaps the best 
thing that could happen to you and me would be to fall into 
the hands of Marcus.” 

“No! That must not be. I am ready to meet any death 
that may come to me from being true to the cause. But it is 
foolish to throw life away. Marcus is generous and merciful. 
He may have influence with Pilate. But he is a Roman 
officer, and even though he saved us from crucifixion he could 
not save us from death.” 

“The heart is gone out of me, Shobek. Now that these 
men whom I thought I had made friends of have turned 


38388 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


against me, I feel ready to die. I wish you would save your- 
self and leave me here.” 

“Why talk so foolishly? You know I would not do that.” 

“Yes, I know it. You are as faithful as Jonathan was to 
David. You won’t desert me, so I must follow you. I see 
there is no other way. Well, what shall we do? How can we 
get away?” ! 

“IT have got it all arranged. I would not dare to steal out 
by the path through the opening in this circle of rock. They 
may be on the watch for us. I think it likely they have their 
eyes on this little dwelling of ours even now to make sure we 
have not in some way got wind of their plan and foiled it. 
But foil it we will. I have fixed some of the timbers on the 
back side of the hut, which almost leans against the cliff, so 
that they can be moved aside without any noise. We will 
creep out through the opening I make and scale the cliff. 
That won’t be difficult. You will find a cord hanging fast to 
a tree near the edge of the rock.” 

**When did you do that?” 

“An hour ago. But there’s no need to say anything more 
now. It is time to act.” 

The preparations for departure were quickly made. They 
had to be simple for two who were living with almost the sim- 
plicity of savages. When they were ready, Shobek carefully 
and noiselessly pushed the rough-hewn logs aside and he and 
Zatthu crept out under the open sky. It was very dark; no 
stars were shining; they had little fear of being seen. Sho- 
bek helped Zatthu to find the rope and compelled him to mount 
up first. The ascent successfully made, Shobek followed him. 
Reaching the edge of the cliff, which was some twenty cubits 
high, he stopped and listened. Not a sound was to be heard. 
The escape had so far been effected without creating any 
alarm. The cord was drawn up and unfastened that it might 
be of avail in future emergencies, and they were ready to 
plunge into the depths of the forest. 


PART IV—THE BROKEN HOPE 339 


“Which way shall we go?” asked Zatthu whose despondent 
mood made him glad to leave the direction of their wandering 
to his companion. 

“T think to Jotapata,” was Shobek’s answer. “It’s a popu- 
lous town with its two score thousands; and there are times 
when one can hide best in a crowd. So we will turn our steps 
in that direction; but we need not hurry. It will be three 
hours or so before those scoundrels find that they have lost 
their chance to claim the reward that was so tempting to 
them.” 

“Tell me one thing more, Shobek. Were Amok and Zichri 
among those who were going to deliver me up to Rome?” 

“Yes, both of them. I should not have told you if you had 
not asked me; but they were in the plot.” 

Zatthu said nothing. With a heavy heart he looked down 
on the spot, now nothing but a mass of gloom, which had at 
once given him shelter and all but wrought his doom. Then 
he turned and followed Shobek into the forest blackness. His 
tread was heavy. Despair was in his soul. He felt that in 
turning from this den of thieves he was saying goodbye to 
the cause to which he had pledged a measureless devotion. 
Everything had failed. As avery last resource he had come to 
a Cave of Adullam; and that had failed. Jehovah had not 
counted him worthy to redeem his afflicted people. 


ary ay Hiei 
aa ene’ ; ci ey i ie hak 1 ¢ Rin 


wah 


wah Gy byt iv 
Hc 


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ufeant Vs Fait ih) rion Peete Ay 


m0 t 


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fs 


nine Ihe ee vs 5 mh «( Mf, rh Jah ee 


LR hoi OLN Cate ie aN en slate ih roger ah ry. 
bie Sue { saat al: is hay Pele My ‘ it HE), ; net 

| EUR Raith ieee DORR ye aa vai) i | 

i i- ‘anes aa ii ana , Atha : i Mi ” é Ka Wey ital aie roe i } . 


My ie Ga, be ers ea } Whe fs e Pe it se 
ie Bit yt in Mes Wa Ae ai oi | 
Vig > ie Howl. ms y ae int Tes, a heat Gs " 
‘ inet ee 
‘ ih eae , ' ’ 
drebanrny tails Sieh Ey a ri a eh oe 


Vive 
¥ 


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ee, ak wee dike hfe intl i 
en) wi ai oe oe ce ; 


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AS ignite nia oa : hong 4 ; el Fe ie 
nif i) ils Ah may u v Ay bi HAND AN hh 


a than Piha BS ie) Re \ advihsnibii a Ne i‘ 
+ Led Mati oc ear ANY 
bile Le nt bie th iy ie 


Plt it & i 





Part V 
WAITING 


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fi 
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4 ni ; A 


ne 





PART V—WAITING 343 


I 


Less than a month after Zatthu and Shobek made their 
midnight flitting from Barabbas’ lair, Thisoa one afternoon 
received from Nicon the intelligence that a visitor had 
appeared. : 

The intelligence was not unwelcome. Except for the ser- 
vants she was alone in the house. Her father and mother had 
gone to Tiberias, further down on the lake shore, for a three 
days’ visit with friends living there. She was missing them 
much and the roll of the Fifth Book of the Iliad, with which 
she was trying to entertain herself as she sat in the atrium 
by the plashing waters of the fountain, awakened but a lan- 
guid interest. Her thought was far away in the Galilean hills. 

“Who is it, Nicon?” she inquired. 

“One whom I think you will be pleased to see,” answered 
Nicon with an old servitor’s freedom. “It is the big Hebrew, 
Shobek.” 

““Shobek,” she exclaimed, her dullness of spirit instantly 
replaced by a joyous anticipation. ‘Bring him in here at 
once.” 

Nicon withdrew, in a slightly wondering mood. He could 
not read the mind of his young mistress and know that she 
wanted to hear news of Zatthu there in the very spot where 
he had more than once sat by her side and shared his thought 
with her. Shobek had been in the house but once before, but 
he was not to be met formally in the room where strangers 
were received. 

Thisoa’s face beamed as she greeted him. | 

“Flow good you are to come to us again,” she said, ‘This 
time I hope it is good news you bring — but no! As I look 
at you and see how grave you are, I fear something is amiss. 
Pray seat yourself at once and tell me all.” 


344 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“T have reason to be grave,” said Shobek, very solemnly 
and slowly. “There is much amiss.” 

“Tell me all and waste no words. I must know the truth.” 

“Zatthu is very, very ill.” 

*““EKven to death?” 

“Yes, even to death. I left him very low this morning. 
Even now he may not be alive.” 

“There was no hope whatever when you left him?” 

“No hope. No, it grieves me to say it, but there was abso- 
lutely none.” 

Thisoa was too sorely stricken to speak at once. Her 
breath came in gasps and her face was white. Shobek under- 
stood and respected her mood. With eyes downcast he waited 
for her to speak. Presently she said faintly, 

“Did you leave him with Kelitar” 

“Alas! Kelita was killed in saving Zatthu and myself two 
months ago.” 

Again there was a brief silence. Then Thisoa found 
strength to say, 

‘“You must tell me the story, but tell it quickly. Zatthu 
shall not die. He must and shall be saved. But first I must 
know what has happened and why he lies so near to death.” 

Shobek therefore straightway began his story. Realizing 
himself that he must omit much more than he told, he briefly 
pictured the life he and his two friends had been living; how 
they had roamed over the hills of Palestine from north to 
south; how they had been hunted and harried and more than 
once had only escaped capture through Kelita’s vigilance and 
subtle sense of danger; how the spy had been ever on their 
tracks and had at last forced them to seek refuge in the 
cavernous passage where Kelita had met his death; how he, 
Shobek, and Zatthu had then eluded pursuit by consorting 
with Barabbas and his band of outlaws; and how even that 
hiding-place had failed them’ and Zatthu had left it utterly 
broken in spirit. 


PART V—WAITING 345 


“Yes, the heart had gone out of him,” said Shobek, as he 
brought his narrative to its close. ‘‘When I got him safely 
out of that den and led him to Jotapata, he was like one walk- 
ing in a dream. The night was dark. The mountain trail 
was rough and steep. He stepped carelessly, fell headlong 
after we had been journeying an hour or more, and cut his 
arm upon a jagged stone. He made light of the hurt. In the 
dark I did not realize how bad it was and did not stop to dress 
it, thinking it best to reach Jotapata as soon as possible. 
But when daylight came and we were still some distance from 
the city, I found that he was very weak and faint from the 
loss of blood, and we made those last few miles with difficulty. 

“At Jotapata we found lodging with a friend of mine. A 
leach was summoned and Zatthu had the best of care. But 
in spite of it he grew steadily worse. A high fever set in and 
seemed to run like fire all through his veins and to poison his 
whole system. ‘It isn’t the wound, it’s his crushed and broken 
spirit,’ the leach has said more than once as he looked at him 
sadly. And that I amsureis true. The people have not been 
willing to follow him. He feels that he has failed. So he 
wants to die. For the last two days he had been delirious, and 
this morning, as I said at first, the end was plainly near. 
The leach said he had only a few hours to live. And so I 
came to tell you and your father and mother who were so 
kind to him. I really had to come, for ... for... I don’t 
quite know how to say it, and yet I must — in his delirium he 
says one word over and over again, and that is your name.” 

Had Shobek looked at Thisoa as he said this, he would have 
seen the color come into her face which had been like marble. 
But he only heard her say, instantly and very quietly, 

“Yes, Shobek, you did right to come. I wish you had come 
before. But it is not too late. Zatthu must live. There is 
one who can save him from death even now. Do you not know 
who that is?” 


346 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“Do you mean Jesus of Nazareth?” said Shobek, looking 
at Thisoa inquiringly. 

“Yes. He, and only he, can do it.” 

“But ... I ought not perhaps to discourage you,” said 
Shobek hesitatingly, “but it may be too late. I wish indeed I 
had come before. Zatthu may not be living even now.” 

“IT feel that he is. Even if he is not, I still believe that 
Jesus of Nazareth can restore him. I have known him to give 
life to one who had ceased to breathe.” 

‘““How strange if he brings Zatthu back to life and health,” 
said Shobek thoughtfully. ‘For it is this same Jesus who has 
brought him so low. Everywhere did he find that this car- 
penter’s son had filled the minds of the people. They would 
not warm to his words because Jesus had healed their dis- 
eases and won their hearts. His pride will be wounded beyond 
cure if he owes his very life to this man who has been the ruin 
of his hope.” 

“Not beyond cure, Shobek. But what he will feel we can- 
not think of now. We must act and act without another 
moment’s delay. My father and mother are away, as Nicon 
I know has told you. I have to turn to you for help in this 
great need. And for Zatthu’s sake I know you will do every 
thing you can and do it gladly. Go and learn at once where 
Jesus is. Then come back here and take me to him. I must 
seek him wherever he is. But, oh, I hope he’s not far away. 
Yet, stay! You too are hunted by Rome. You might be recog- 
nized and seized. That would be terrible! You will have to 
remain here in concealment and let Nicon do all that must be 
done.” | 

“No, I cannot let any one but myself be the means of saving 
Zatthu. I will go this moment and find out where Jesus is and 
then I will take you to him. Jehovah will be my keeper. Have 
no fear. I have none.” 

Before Thisoa could answer, Shobek had turned and walked 


away from her and in a moment he was out of the house. 


PART V—WAITING 347 


Strengthened by his trust Thisoa immediately made her 
preparations for an expedition the extent of which she could 
not even conjecture. Jesus, she knew, went in many direc- 
tions from Capernaum. He traversed all Galilee. He went 
south as far as Jerusalem. He sometimes crossed Gennesaret 
and tarried in the country beyond. Wherever he was, he must 
be sought and found. 

First of all she summoned Nicon and said to him, 

“Nicon, I am shortly to leave the house and with the help 
of Shobek find Jesus of Nazareth. Shobek will be a strong 
protector; but it is possible that the Romans may lay hold of 
him; so it is best that you should go too. Make no objec- 
tions, even in your mind. I am doing this to save the life of 
Zatthu. My father would wish it to be done, for he made a 
guest-friend of this brave Hebrew who has been brought near 
to death through trying to free his country from the Romans. 
I do not know where Jesus is. It may require a journey of a 
day or more to reach him. But Shobek will soon bring me 
word and then we must start at once. Be sure then and have 
everything in readiness when the moment comes — horses and 
whatever else may be needed.” 

The command was an extraordinary one, but there was no 
question in Nicon’s mind as to whether it should be executed. 
More than once he had seen this imperious girl rule the entire 
household, as she did when she baffled Marcus’ search for this 
same Zatthu whose life seemed now to be at stake. So with- 
out any resistance or hesitation he replied, 

“Tt shall be done,” and forthwith he set about his task. 

Thisoa then sought the woman, Keturah by name, who was — 
her own personal attendant and gave her corresponding in- 
structions. ‘The two made the necessary preparations, and 
were still busy with them when, ere a full half-hour had 
elapsed, Shobek appeared again. 

“Jesus is on the other side of the lake,’ was the word he 
brought. ‘‘Many of the fishers have already come in. We 


848. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


can easily find one of them to take us across. Let us go down 
to the shore at once.” 

It was joyous news to Thisoa that the great healer was no 
farther distant. Without any delay she started for the lake- 
side with Shobek, Nicon and Keturah. 





PART V— WAITING 349 


II 
The Lake of Gennesaret, or Sea of Galilee, is a deep broad 


basin of the river Jordan which courses through it from north 
to south. Its whole expanse is not greater than that of a 
large modern city, its extreme length being only thirteen 
miles. Picturesque hills engirdle it, but their slopes have lost 
their fertility. On its shores are only a few thinly populated 
towns today. 

A far different scene it presented in the days when the 
Saviour of men walked upon its waters and quieted its angry 
waves. Then thriving villages that in some cases attained the 
dignity of cities were scattered along its margin; and their 
teeming populations found an easy subsistence from the soil. 
The lake also yielded fish so abundantly that then, as is the 
case now indeed, it gave men steady occupation day by day. 

But the eastern shore, for some point on which Thisoa was 
to set sail from Capernaum, was less cultivated, less thickly 
inhabited, and less used as a fishermen’s haven than was that 
on the western side. Only two villages of any note, Gergesa 
and Gamala, looked across the lake to the better known com- 
munities upon its eastern edge. And just because this region 
was less frequented, Jesus now and then resorted there to 
escape the multitudes that thronged about him. So unem- 
bellished are the Gospel narratives, so naked in their state- 
ments of bare facts, that only by careful reading do we see 
what a ferment he created throughout Galilee. The people 
would not let him alone. They hung upon his words. They 
watched his comings and his goings. They lay in wait for 
him everywhere; when they found him, they were not willing 
to lose him out of their sight. So to get relief from this wear- 
ing devotion, which had its roots at once in curiosity and in 
reverence, he was forced sometimes to seek such solitude as 


350 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


might be found. And yet when he crossed to the eastern shore 
of the lake they sometimes followed him there. 

Had they done so now? Before they went down to the 
water’s edge Thisoa and her little company looked forth to 
see if they could descry any unusual gathering of boats upon 
the eastern shore. For its outline could be clearly discerned 
across the expanse of the lake. Gergesa was but a few miles 
away. A flotilla of crafts, moored in front of it or at any 
point near by, could easily have been made out. But no such 
assemblage was to be seen. They must make for some point 
and inquire. A fisherman ready to embark with them was 
easily found. To Gergesa, as the nearest of the two villages 
on the farther side, they directed their course. 

The sun was two hours high when they started. Using oar 
and sail they made good headway and had landed in front of 
the town while the red disk, soon to disappear, was still above 
the western hills. In the village there was quiet. If Jesus 
was in the neighborhood, his movements had not this time 
been noted by the crowds. 

And this proved to be the case. By good chance Shobek 
had in Capernaum come across one who knew what the many 
had not found out. He had been correctly informed. Jesus 
was on the eastern shore and he was not far from Gergesa. 
By inquiry it was learned that Jesus and his small company 
of faithful followers were on the hillside above the town. He 
had spoken to the people and sent them away. Then with his 
disciples he had sought retirement. 

Up the hillside in quest of him they went eagerly, Shobek 
leading the way. With as rapid and untiring a step went 
Thisoa. The fervor of her spirit sustained her; unlike most 
girls of the orient, she had lived much in the open. Exercise 
was a pleasure to her and she did not easily tire. So fast 
indeed did she and Shobek climb that Nicon and Keturah. 
could not keep up with them and lagged a little behind, the 


PART V—WAITING 351 


elderly servant having to adapt his pace to that of the maid 
who had not her mistress’ vigorous and elastic step. 

The hill they were ascending was some five hundred feet 
high and was a spur of the range that skirts the eastern shore 
of Gennesaret. When they had mounted half way they came 
suddenly upon a group of men who were sitting and standing 
on a shelving piece of ground that had hid them from view. 
Twelve of them there were altogether, some talking quietly 
and some looking out on the lake and the hills beyond. Most 
of them showed little surprise or interest at the sudden ap- 
pearance of Shobek and Thisoa among them. Was not all 
the world going after Jesus of Nazareth? That he should be 
sought even in this out-of-the-way spot was nothing strange. 
Yet one of them came forward to accost them, prompted as 
he soon made plain by a desire to protect his master even 
more than by love of service. 

“What is your wish?” he asked, as he looked at them with 
passing interest and then glanced at Nicon and Keturah who 
now joined them. 

Shobek started to answer the inquiry, but Thisoa’s ardor 
was too great to allow any one to speak for her. 

“We have come to see Jesus. Is he not here?” she said. 

“He is not far away,” was the answer that seemed to be 
grudgingly given. 

“Pray show me to him at once, then.” 

‘“No, I could not do that.” 

“Oh, but you must. I have come all the way from Ca- 
pernaum to find him.” 

“But he sought this side of the lake because all the people 
in Galilee are seeking him. He is worn and tired from seeing 
so many. You must not trouble him.” 

This was said with a frown, and the strong harsh features 
of the speaker seemed to grow harsher as he spoke. He was 
a rough man, plainly clad as were all the members of the 
group. Yet the face showed a rugged sincerity, and in the 


352. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


attitude and the whole bearing there bespoke a native force 
that could be kindled into great achievement. Still undaunted 
and believing that every follower of the wondrous healer must 
have a gentle heart, Thisoa replied, 

“But he is so kind that I thought he was never troubled by 
those who were in distress and I have come to ask him to heal 
a dying man.” 

“You are quite right,” said another of the group who had 
also come forward and had been listening to all that was said. 
“Our master is never troubled by those who ask for healing. 
Peter, I must show this woman where Jesus can be seen.” 

“But he strictly charged us not to seek him, but to wait 
here till he joined us, however long that might be. Some- 
times,” he added, turning to Thisoa as if to excuse his own 
resistance to her entreaty, “he spends all night upon the hills, 
where no one but the God of Abraham, of Isaac and of Jacob 
can be his witness.” 

‘Nor shall we go near him or disturb him,” said Peter’s 
companion. “But I will go a few steps with this woman and 
show her how she can herself approach him. Have no fear,” 
he said to her. “He will be gracious unto you.” 

Peter shrugged his shoulders and said with a manifest tinge 
of jealousy, 

“You always claim to understand him better than the rest 
of us, John.” 

But he offered no further objections, and with this kindly 
follower of Jesus who had shown such a ready sympathy 
Thisoa went further up the hillside. Her whole heart set on 
finding the great healer and telling him her sore need, she yet 
could not help looking with wonder on the man who walked 
at her side. She had never seen a face like his. Its gentle- 
ness spoke directly to the heart. The eye was tender and 
compassionate. The voice was soft and mild. Yet here she 
felt was a great strength. It was the strength of a nature 
that loved good and would cleave to it through suffering and 


PART V—WAITING 353 


trial. How easily had the sturdy Peter been overruled by 
this man’s gentle insistence! Was it men like him who were to 
bring in a new day for the Hebrew nation under the lead of 
the healer from Nazareth? 

The two did not ascend directly upward but followed a 
path that wound across the hillside. Not more than a few 
hundred steps had they taken when Thisoa’s guide stopped 
her and directed her gaze upward. As she looked where he 
pointed her eyes rested on the crest of the hill, and she saw 
there the figure of a man outlined against the sky. Looking 
rather than speaking her gratitude, she hastened to complete 
her climb, while the man who had befriended her turned and 
went in the direction of his comrades. 

So rapidly did Thisoa climb that she reached the hill crest 
breathless. She paused therefore for a moment to gain power 
of speech. Not yet was her presence known. So steep was 
the ascent in the front that faced Gennesaret that she had 
made her approach from the side. The man she had sought 
with such perfect faith was half turned from her. He was 
looking across Gennesaret and the sun was sending its last 
rays full upon his face. Indeed, the whole figure was flooded 
with the crimson light as with a glory. Thisoa was filled with 
awe as she beheld. Who was this man who stood gazing with 
rapt vision into the western sky? Had he been raised up by 
the Hebrews’ God to purge the whole earth of evil? Was that 
God whom they so reverently worshipped in very truth the 
creator of the earth and all its children? And was this man 
now holding communion with Him and peering into that mys- 
terious world from which he had called little Naomi back to 
life? | 

As Thisoa gazed a feeling of shrinking and dread came 
over her. This presence was too holy and sacred to be dis- 
turbed. Jesus had wished to be alone. He was hearing mes- 
sages from heaven; it was not for her to interrupt them with 
her human voice. But while she stood awed and silent Jesus 


354 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


grew aware that she was near and turned toward her. His 
face was in full view and it shone. It shone with a light that 
was not of earth. As she beheld it she was seized with dis- 
may. How would he rebuke her for thus intruding upon a 
solitude which no human eyes should have seen! 

He came towards her and the transfiguring light faded 
from his countenance, but it was not succeeded by a frown. 
The eyes that met hers expressed such a depth of tenderness 
that a flood of emotion rushed over her spirit. She fell at the 
feet of Jesus and sobbed convulsively. Immediately a hand 
was placed gently upon her head and a wonderful calm stole 
over her whole frame. She was able to speak, but it was only 
a few brief words that she said. She did not need to tell her 
story. She did not need to name any names. Jesus knew all 
things. He understood. Still kneeling she raised her arms 
imploringly, looked up and cried, 

“Oh, save him! He is nigh to death.” 

And now the eyes that had gazed into hers looked far away. 
Their expression was deeply serious, almost troubled. The 
figure that had stood so calmly majestic before her now 
seemed to breathe forth effort and will. ‘Thisoa watched 
breathlessly. Had she asked too much? Was Zatthu no 
longer living? Or was he so fayaway that the healing current 
could not flow into him as it had flowed into Marcus’ servant 
Hacho? But she was not long in suspense. Quickly that 
wonderful look of a more than human compassion returned 
to the face of Jesus. With his hand he signed to her that she 
was to arise and said, 

“He is healed.” 

Thisoa said nothing. Words seemed meaningless. And 
they were not needed. Not gratitude merely, but joy, deep 
transporting joy showed in her face. With an answering 
expression which showed that he understood, Jesus turned 
from her and went again to the place whence he had gazed 
across the lake to the Galilean hills. For a moment Thisoa 


PART V—WAITING 355 


watched him and then made her way slowly down the slope. 
Eager as she was to impart the joyful news, she could not 
hurry from a spot where she had seen what would always 
speak to the deep places of her spirit. 

Before she found her companions and the group of fol- 
lowers, she met the kindly guide who had been waiting for her. 

‘Was he not gracious to you?” he inquired. 

“He was more than gracious; he was tender and kind 
beyond words. But who is he? What is he? I am filled with 
wonder and awe. How can any man be what he is?” 

John did not answer her at once.. Thoughtfully he walked 
a few paces at her side and then said, 

“TI cannot tell you. I am filled with wonder too. We must 
wait and see. Greater things may be done than have ever yet 
been done, for there is one among us who is greater than any 
who have been.” 

The glad tidings were quickly made known and the four 
then hastened to the lake shore. The voyage home was 
quickly and comfortably made as the wind was favoring. It 
was quite early in the evening when they reached Thisoa’s 
home. Here Shobek bade them goodbye and set out for 
Jotapata, resisting the most urgent entreaties that he spend 
the night under the roof of Aristarchus and make his journey 
by daylight. | 

“IT cannot wait,” he said. “I must go at once to Zatthu 
and tell him why it is that he has risen from his bed well and 
strong; for so I am sure I shall find him.” 

“Yes, I too am sure that you will find him so,” said Thisoa. 
‘And yet, we should all be so glad to be made certain.” 

“You shall be made certain. I promise you that,” answered 
Shobek; and then at a brisk pace he started on his way. 


356 ZATTHU-—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


Iil 


Three days later Zatthu himself appeared at the house of 
Aristarchus. He came in the evening and was warmly greeted 
by the kind hearted Greek merchant who had returned from 
Tiberias with Xenodice. 

‘“‘Welcome, welcome, my friend! Thrice welcome!” cried 
Aristarchus. ‘Your visits are so infrequent that it is a real 
joy to see you. And,” he could not forbear adding in a spirit 
of mischief, “you bring so much life and stir into the house 
that you are sure to be a very entertaining guest.” 

It was only the faintest smile that Zatthu gave in answer 
to this pleasantry. His manner was very subdued. Well and 
vigorous though he plainly was, he seemed crushed and broken 
In spirit. 

“T trust,” he replied, “that the kind of life and stir I 
brought with me before will not follow me this time. I should 
not have showed myself here if I had thought I could cause 
you further annoyance and anxiety. But I came as you see 
in the dark. I shall go away as soon as I have told your 
daughter that I know how much I owe to her. I beg leave to 
tell her that. I hardly wish to thank her. It would have 
been better perhaps to let me die.” 

“My good friend,” said the Greek placing his hand kindly 
on his visitor’s shoulder, “‘you make me think of a boy com- 
rade of mine who was nearly drowned. We got him out of the 
water just in time. Then we rolled him and pounded him and 
pinched him till he opened his eyes. But he felt so weak and 
sick that instead of thanking us, he only gasped out with a 
weak faint voice: ‘Why didn’t you let me drown?’ Here are 
you — a man that has escaped from prison, slipped out of 
the hands of the Romans at midnight from this very house, 
foiled them through long months while they chased you all 
over the hills of Galilee, been sore wounded and sick almost to 


PART V—WAITING 357 


death, and yet restored to perfect health and strength — for 
I see you are that — and now you say you ought to have died! 
A man that has been through what you have has only just 
begun to live. You have great things to do. Go on and do 
them.” 

“No,” said Zatthu, shaking his head sadly. “I have noth- 
ing to do. : That is what troubles me. It is that that I want 
to make plain to you and your wife and daughter who have 
been such good friends to me.” 

“And you shall do so, and right away. I will tell them you 
are here. They will be anxious to hear your story.” 

Aristarchus was gone but a moment. Returning he said, 

“You shall unburden your mind in the room where you 
thrilled us by the wonderful account of your escape from the 
prison at Cesarea. My wife and daughter are eagerly await- 
ing you there. Come with me.” 

The greeting of Xenodice and Thisoa was as warm as 
Zatthu could have wished; but what deep delight it gave 
Thisoa to see him again he did not know. The very intensity 
of her feelings made her manner restrained, cordial and hearty 
though her words of welcome were. And little indeed was 
said by way of ceremony. Hardly was Zatthu seated when 
Aristarchus bade him satisfy their curiosity and their deep 
friendly interest by letting them know just what happened 
after Shobek had come to the house to announce that he was 
near his end. ‘ 

“‘Shobek was right,” Zatthu began at once. ‘The morning 
he left me I was unconscious. I had been unconscious most 
of the time for some three days. The spark of life was nearly 
extinguished in me. The spirit that would keep it alive was 
wholly gone. I had failed, utterly failed in my cherished 
purpose. Life had nothing left for me and I did not want to 
live. Late in the afternoon I came to myself and I knew it 
was the last opening of my eyes upon the world before they 
were closed to it forever. I was glad to leave it, but I was 


358 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


glad too that I could look out on it once more and bid it good- 
bye. ‘Through the window in my room I could gaze upon the 
hills lying to the west of the city and see the sunlight on them. 
The sun was shining very brightly. I was pleased that it was 
so. I said to myself that Jehovah was good to let me pass 
from the world while it wore a smile. 

*“‘Peacefully I lay there for a while, but growing weaker all 
the time. At last I closed my eyes, or rather they closed of 
themselves, and I knew that the end was very near. Yet I had 
not quite lost consciousness and when the faithful woman 
who had tended me all through my illness and who could not 
believe I was dying leaned over me with tender solicitude and 
asked if there was nothing she could do for me, I was able to. 
murmur, 

** ‘Nothing. Goodbye.’ 

“And just at that moment I felt a thrill run through my 
frame. It was as if the dying spark of life had been suddenly 
fanned into a glow and was sending a surge of fire into every 
part of me. So mighty was this rush of life and strength 
that my worn exhausted body could not passively receive it. 
It seemed to resist the force that came flooding in and I suf- 
fered much in this strange conflict between death and life. 
But life conquered. Its tide could not be stayed. Even be- 
fore I could take in what was happening I found myself a 
new man. In amazement I sat up in bed. I felt of myself 
and moved my limbs. All my weakness was gone and _I stood 
on my feet and walked about the room. 

‘With more than astonishment, with terror even, my faith- 
ful Deborah had watched this strange and seemingly impos- 
sible activity of mine. How could a man who had been almost 
too weak to say a last word of farewell before death seized 
him suddenly rise from his bed and walk? She thought it 
must be my spirit that she was looking upon and she shrank 
away from me, opening her mouth to speak and yet too dumb- 
founded to utter a word. 


PART V—WAITING 359 


“Tt is really myself, Deborah,’ I said to reassure her, for 
I could see what was in her mind. ‘It is myself and I am well.’ 

“And I was. From the very edge of the sepulchre I had 
passed to perfect strength and health. Even the angry 
wound which through my very weakness had refused to heal 
had closed. So in wonder I sat down to think. What did it 
all mean? Suddenly it flashed into my mind that somehow 
Shobek had brought about this wondrous change. Could he 
have gone to the carpenter’s son and begged him to cure me? 
If so, could this strange healer have restored me to strength 
when he was far away? 

“In great unrest, in deep anguish of spirit, I awaited Sho- 
bek’s return, sleeping but little through the night. At dawn 
he appeared and I listened, bewildered, humiliated and en- 
thralled, to the story he had to tell. It only confirmed what 
I had suspected, what I may say I feared. 

“For I do not deceive myself. It was no turn in the course 
of my sickness that suddenly snatched me from death. When 
that happens there is an almost imperceptible change at first 
and very, very slowly the one who lies hardly breathing gains 
strength and perfect health. No, it was no such happening 
in my case. Jesus of Nazareth sent a tide of life into my 
body just as the breath was leaving it. But it was to you,” 
he continued turning now to Thisoa, “that I owe the inter- 
cession that saved me, not to Shobek. It was you who had 
faith thatthe carpenter’s son could cure me. It was you who 
sought him, with Shobek’s help, and found him on the moun- 
tain top. It was most generously done. What staunch true 
friends have I, an alien, found in this hospitable house! It 
humbles me to think how much you have all done for me and 
how utterly powerless I am to show my gratitude.” 

“Show it,” said Aristarchus, “by being glad that you are 
alive. ‘That is all we wish.” 

“And why not rejoice,” added Thisoa, “that Jesus of 
Nazareth cured you? You said, you feared it might prove 


3860 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


that he had restored you to health and life. Why should you 
have felt so?” 

“Because that is the very thing,” replied Zatthu with mani- 
fest bitterness, “that completes my humiliation. My hopes 
are a wreck, an utter shapeless ruin. The beliefs I had 
cherished are all shattered. I thought Jehovah had called me 
to free my nation. It was the voice of my own foolish pride. 
I thought the ancient promises to my people were now to be 
fulfilled. I was altogether wrong. I was sure the Hebrews 
would rally round me when I fired them to throw off the yoke 
of Rome. They flattered and encouraged me, but they would 
not heed my call. No, they were deaf to me because they had 
given their hearts to this son of a carpenter who has called 
about him the common and the unclean. Everywhere I went 
I found that the minds of those who listened to me had been 
won by this man Jesus. He has been my undoing — he whom 
I considered an impostor and whose healing art I denounced 
as unholy and given him not by Jehovah but Beelzebub. And 
now I owe my life to this very man. Oh, it is bitter, bitter, 
bitter! To think of it is torture to my soul.” 

Zatthu was too much overcome to continue, and his three 
hearers all felt that his grief was too deep to be reached by 
any ordinary words of consolation. But his mood was one 
that really demanded the relief of expression, and while they 
were wondering how they could bring comfort to such a 
poignant distress, he rallied and went on: 

“You,” he said, turning to Aristarchus, “‘wonder why I am 
not glad to live, and tell me I have yet great things to do. What 
things? Do you forget that I am an outlaw, that Rome has 
set a price on my head? Where can I go and what can I do? 
I came here under cover of the darkness. While it is yet dark 
I must steal away. It is not so much that I fear to be taken. 
It is the trouble I might bring to this generous house that 
makes me fearful. And I must indeed go now. There is noth- 
ing more to say —nothing but, Farewell. I say it with a 


PART V—WAITING 361 


very full heart. Your kindness I can never forget. I shall 
think of it as I go from place to place ever fleeing the venge- 
ance of Rome. If Rome takes me, as sooner or later she surely 
will, I shail think of it when I suffer a painful death. You have 
been more generous to me even than my own people. I shall 
think of you even before them. But you will never see me 
again. However much my heart may turn to you, I shall 
never seek your threshold. So, Goodbye.” 

“Nay, nay,” said Aristarchus, refusing the hand extended 
in farewell but placing his arm affectionately around the 
young Hebrew, “that must not be. You must not even think 
of going away from us so. Here is the place, the only place 
for you, under this roof. You will be absolutely safe here. 
No one saw you come. My servants would no more think of 
betraying you than I should myself. And even if you should 
be discovered, which I hold to be impossible, no harm would 
come to me. Dismiss that thought from your mind. Did 
Marcus mark me out for vengeance because I sheltered you 
before? No, he was too large-minded and generous. He 
knew you were my guest-friend and he respected the tie. It 
is a sacred one. You have had indeed a wearing, a crushing, 
a bewildering experience. You need to sit down and think 
about it all till your mind sees its way clearly through the 
maze you are in and you are at peace with yourself. Here is 
the place for you to rest and think. My home is yours. 
Make it so, at least till these clouds have cleared. I can my- 
self do much, I am confident, to make them clear. I will use 
all my nS with Marcus and through him get Rome to 
pardon you.” 

“Your kindness is as reat as one man ever showed to an- 
other,” said Zatthu, gently but firmly releasing himself from 
the Greek’s friendly embrace, “but I ought not to accept it. 
I cannot accept it. Strangely was I led to this house to 
find here such friendliness that I believed it was all ordered 
by Jehovah, and so I took what you gave. But I must take 


362 ZATTHU-—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


no more. I ama Hebrew. I am hunted by Rome because I. 
tried to free my people from her hated and unjust dominion. 
Back to my own people I must go. In the hills of my own 
country I must find refuge. They have sheltered many a hero 
and prophet of my nation. It is among them that I must 
myself find shelter, not in this generous but alien house. I 
might take ship for some foreign shore, but wherever I went 
the hand of Rome would reach out after me. So here in my 
own land I shall abide and wait for the dayspring to come. 
For come it must, though how I cannot now discern. Per- 
haps it will be a day of deliverance. Jehovah has not for- 
saken his chosen people. And so, Goodbye. My heart aches 
when I say it, but it must be said.” 

They saw that his will was fixed and they did not oppose it 
further. Silently he pressed the hand of each and turned 
resolutely away. Aristarchus accompanied him to the door 
and watched him as he disappeared in the darkness. He did 
not once look back, but how much it had cost him to turn from 
the roof that sheltered Thisoa, no one of the three who had 
witnessed his stern resolution dreamed. For Thisoa herself 
now set down his frequent utterance of her name in delirium 
as the mere wandering fancy of a fevered mind. 


PART V—WAITING 363 


IV 


In spite of Zatthu’s seeming aversion to receiving further 
help from aliens, Aristarchus was determined to secure for 
him a pardon from Rome if possible. This fixed purpose he 
made known to Xenodice and Thisoa; but a matter of trade 
called him the following day into Samaria before he could set 
about this friendly act. 

But his spirited daughter chafed at the delay. Zatthu 
might be taken and summarily dealt with while those who 
might save him stood still and did nothing. She determined 
therefore to go to Marcus and make intercession herself. 

She found the centurion at his house alone, Naarah being 
at the bedside of a friend who needed her good offices. 

“Marcus,” she began with a half-playful approach to the 
grave object of her visit, “what reward would you give me if 
I told you where you could find the ever-elusive Zatthu?”’ 

“Which means,” replied Marcus, “that he has been at your 
father’s house, but has gone away already.” 

“There is no pleasure in trying to puzzle you,” she re- 
joined. “You see through any little mental play too quickly. 
Yes, you are right, as you usually are. Zatthu came to see 
us last night, but now he is far away in the hills again.” 

‘And is he really well and strong?” inquired Marcus with 
grave interest; for he had already heard how Thisoa, aided 
by Shobek, had found Jesus and received from him the assur- 
ance that the Hebrew was restored to health. 

“Yes, he is well. He told us how his illness suddenly left 
him. It was a wonderful story.” 

“Ts there no limit to the compassion, the tenderness and the 
mercy of this man of Nazareth?” queried Marcus, speaking 
as much to himself as to Thisoa. “Is there no limit to his 
power? Zatthu was many miles away from him, and yet he 
raised him in an instant from mortal sickness to life and 


364 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


strength, even as he raised my Hacho. Who is this man? 
What is he that he can do these things?” 

“The very question I asked one of his followers who was 
kind to me and showed me where I could find Jesus.” 

“And what was his answer?” 

“He said he could not answer, but he felt that Jesus was 
greater than any one that has been on earth before and would 
do greater things than have ever yet been done.” 

“I believe he will. J believe he will,” said Marcus very 
solemnly. ‘And what a day will dawn then — such a day 
perhaps as this world has never seen.” 

The thought was too great for mere idle speculation. Both 
sat in silence a moment and then Thisoa said, 

“Marcus, you speak as if the compassion and mercy of 
Jesus called for our regard and reverence. Should we not 
imitate him then? Should. we not pardon our enemies? 
Should not Rome pardon hers?” 

“By hers you mean Zatthu, no doubt.” 

“Yes, I mean Zatthu.” | 

“The teachings of Jesus certainly should be followed. Yet 
one man can do what a state cannot. It is not safe for a 
state to pardon its enemies.” 

“Zatthu will do Rome no harm. He is no longer Rome’s 
enemy.” 

“So you told Naarah after Shobek sought you. From her 
I heard the story. Zatthu, so Shobek reported, was broken 
and dying. He left the robbers’ lair, where he was sheltered 
and about to be betrayed, with a feeling that he had utterly 
failed. But how is it now that he is strong and well again?” 

“In body he is strong and well; but his hope is gone. He 
is no longer at strife with Rome. She has naught to fear 
from him.” 

“Tf am ready to believe what you say. But I cannot pardon 
him, and Rome does not easily forgive her enemies.” 

“Pilate could pardon him.” 


PART V—WAITING 365 
“And I could make him do so?” 


66V ag.*? 

“T fear not. I could not so influence him.” 

“Is there no one that could?” 

Marcus’ reply did not come immediately. Presently he 
said, looking fixedly at Thisoa, 

“Yes. You could.” 

“T, Marcus? What do you mean?” 

“T mean that Pilate is . . . very human. But,” he added, 
for he saw that Thisoa’s cheeks were growing crimson, “I 
neither said nor thought anything that need disturb you, 
Thisoa. You asked me a searching question; I gave you the 
only possible answer. If you should go to Cesarea under my 
protection, you would have nothing to fear. I am the son of 
the Prefect of Rome and to my friend, Pilate would not dare 
to show any lack of respect. He would even pardon Zatthu, 
I am fully persuaded, if he heard you plead his cause. But 
even though I tell you this out of pity for that poor mis- 
guided Hebrew, whom I would gladly Baye) I know it could 
not be.” ; 

“No, Marcus,” said Thisoa in a very low, sad voice, “it 
could not be. And you understand, do you not? You know 
why it could not be?” 

“Yes, Thisoa. I understand. I eita why you could go to 
Jesus of Nazareth and let him see all that was in your heart, 
but not to Pontius Pilate.” 

“But if Pilate so respects you because you are your 
father’s son, why would he not heed you if you pleaded 
Zatthu’s cause?” 

“To some extent he ould I think I could save Zatthu 
from crucifixion in case he should be taken; but I fear that 
is the best that I could do.” 

“You have said you pity Zatthu and would be glad to save 
him. Will you not do what you can for him?” 

Ves, I will do all I can.” 


366 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“Then you will not try to capture him?” 

“No; neither him nor Shobek. Kelita, I know, has met 
his end, and for that I am glad. He was an assassin and he 
deserved his fate. But if Zatthu is now harmless, Shobek is 
also. That big fellow has a kindly nature. I wish all our 
Roman soldiers were as free from cruelty and meanness as 
he is.” 

“How well you understand men, Marcus 

“TI am afraid I understand Pilate only too well. It is be- 
cause I do that I give you no great encouragement.” 

“Ts he a bad man?” 

“He is not a virtuous man like your father, or like Zatthu. 
But alas! he is no worse than many a man Rome has placed 
in authority.” | 

“And will things get no better, Marcus? Will not Jesus 
make them better?” 

“Can any one man make them better? I believe Jesus could 
if it were really possible. But the world is large and I see evil 
in it everywhere.” 

“Yes, but ever since I saw Jesus on the mountain, I have 
felt as if he might drive all the evil in the world away.” 

“Let us hope that he can, Thisoa. Let us hope that he can, 
though it is much to hope.” | 


199 


PART V—WAITING 867 


V 


The next day Marcus made the journey to Cxsarea. Pro- 
ceeding in an altogether leisurely manner and resting when 
the sun was highest he reached the city late in the afternoon 
of the second day. Pilate received him cordially and, as was 
his custom when Marcus came to see him, gave him lodging 
in his own house. 

The two soon came into conference in a room which Pilate 
often used for semi-official purposes, but Marcus was slow in 
letting the real object of his journey be known. He reported 
upon the state of Galilee as he observed it; told how inter- 
ested the people were in Jesus of Nazareth whose exhortations 
to pure and upright living were no menace to Rome; and 
then went on to say that Zatthu, so long and vainly sought, 
had wholly ceased to rouse his countrymen to rebellion because 
their devotion to Jesus made them deaf to his counsels. 

“In short,” Marcus said in conclusion, “Zatthu has failed. 
He knows he has failed. He is chagrined, even broken, and 
he has utterly abandoned his seditious purpose. It is not 
worth while to hunt him any more.” 

“You really do not mean that he ought to roam at large?” 

“Why not? He has become utterly harmless.” 

‘““But he must pay the penalty of his crimes. He has killed 
a number of Roman soldiers. His own life must be the for- 
feit.” 

“Tt will only embitter this race, that already hates Rome 
fiercely, to put him to death. It would be a shrewd act of 
policy to pardon him and show that Rome is at once mag- 
nanimous and serenely confident of her own strength — like 
a lion that is disdainful of the weaker creatures of the wilds.” 

“Do you really think that?” 

“Yes, it is my sober judgment.” 

*“T cannot see it so. The crimes of this outlaw must not go 


368 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


unpunished. ‘That would look like weakness. Moreover, 
what assurance have I that a man so rebellious at heart will 
for all time cease to be a breeder of strife? Discouraged for 
the moment, he may soon take heart and again pour forth his 
incendiary speech. A vehement and captivating pleader he 
is said to be; a very master of seditious phrase.” 

“T can vouch for him. I know that he has lost all heart 
and abandoned once and for all the cause he had held sacred.” 

“You talk as if you had had personal conference with him, 
and yet that could hardly be — you, a centurion of Rome.” 

‘“‘Assuredly not. But friends of mine have seen him very 
lately. It is from them that I have learned this.” 

“Could they not have delivered him into your hands? Have 
they not been false to Rome?” © 

“You must remember that I am married to a Hebrew 
woman and that I have friends who would never act against 
Rome, but who yet could not be expected to betray a Hebrew 
whom they sympathized with and admired. It is because I 
have the confidence of many who are not at heart true friends 
to Rome that I exert a quieting influence and make Rome’s 
authority respected.” 

“TY grant all that. Your position must bring difficulties. 
IT would not make them greater. But I cannot think as you 
do that this man, whose hands are red with Roman blood, 
should go free and boast that he has done to death our own 
legionaries and yet paid no penalty for his crime. For a 
crime it is to do- violence to those who uphold the Roman 
power. It is a crime that Rome has always visited with the 
most summary justice. So far am I from thinking Zatthu 
should be pardoned that I hold the cross to be his due. If 
he is taken . . .” 

But just here Pilate was interrupted by a knock at the 
door. In response to his bidding a soldier entered and re- 
ported that a decurion had just arrived from Galilee with 
important news. 


PART V—WAITING 369 


“Ts he one of those who were sent out to find that notorious 
rebel Zatthu and his fellow outlaws?” 

“Yes, he is one of those.” 

“Show him here at once.” 

Pilate’s face wore an eager expression while he awaited the 
decurion’s coming. Plainly he hoped to hear that the enemy 
who had so long baffled him was captured or killed; and 
plainly too this same enemy’s continued immunity was a mat- 
ter of chagrin with him. He was angry very much as a man 
is angry with some small insect which at once vexes and: 
eludes ‘him. 

Very shortly the soldier entered again with the decurion, 
and with the manifested consent of Pilate remained to hear his 
story. ‘The decurion was begrimed and travel-stained. Ap- 
parently he had come in all haste from Galilee and, owing to 
the importance of his message, had not been allowed to remove 
the signs of his speedy journeying before appearing in per- 
son before the governor of Palestine. | 

“You were sent to capture Zatthu and his two followers?” 
said Pilate as soon as the man had saluted. 

IN Nhe 

‘What have you to report?” 

“Zatthu has fallen into our hands.” 

Glancing at Marcus with a smile of triumph, Pilate then 
inquired, 

“And the other two?” 

“One of them also, the tall one who is such a stout fighter. 
The hunchback has not been seen of late and Zatthu admits 
that he is dead.” 

“The world is well rid of him. He was a cowardly mur- 
derer. But tell your tale. When did you lay hold of these 
two rebels, and where?” 

“Tt was yesterday, late in the day, in the hills near Jota- 
pata.” 

“And you had a fierce encounter when you captured them, 


370 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


no doubt. Did that long-legged one — I never can remember 
these Hebrew names — lay low any more of my legionaries? 
He shall pay a heavy price for it if he did.” 

“We did have a fierce encounter, but not with the two 
Hebrews. It was with a band of robbers that we had to fight 
and they would have killed every man of us if Zatthu and his 
friend had not come to our rescue.” 

An expression both frowning and puzzled came over Pilate’s 
face and he avoided the eye of Marcus which he knew was 
directed toward him. In a more subdued manner than he had 
showed before, he said, 

“You astonish me. I can hardly believe what you say. 
But go on and tell your story to the end.” 

*“‘Nine men were scouring Galilee under my command to 
find these Hebrew outlaws. ‘To make the search more thor- 
ough I sent five of them northward to hunt by themselves. 
Word came to me soon after this that Zatthu had been seen 
in Jotapata. I was then near Sipphoris, and toward Jota- 
pata I directed my course with the four men I still had with 
me. While we were following a woodland trail a mile or two 
from the city, we heard sounds of an altercation on the road 
below. Rushing down in the direction of the noise, we came 
upon three robbers who were despoiling two unarmed travel- 
lers in spite of their loud protestations. Managing to sur- 
round the knaves before they took in what was happening, 
we commanded them to surrender. Instead of doing so one of 
them gave a shrill whistle, thrice repeated; and before I 
could have counted fifty nearly a dozen more of the cut- 
throats came running to the rescue of their comrades. So 
now we were surrounded and a lively fight began. The rob- 
bers were all armed, most of them with swords, one or two of 
them with heavy clubs. Getting at us in the rear they soon 
had two of us disabled and stretched on the ground. Another 
was badly hurt. It was going hard with us. These men hate 
Rome, for it crucifies them when they are caught. They were 


PART V—WAITING 371 


determined to kill us all. As to the two travellers —they gave 
no help. They had no weapons and there was no fight in 
them. They were Syrian traders, I found later; and the 
Syrians are peace lovers with no stomach for bloodshed. 

“But just as I had made up my mind there was nothing 
for us to do but cut down as many of the scoundrels as we 
could before we met our own fate, two men darted up, shouted 
to us not to give in, and took a hand in the fray. At the mo- 
ment I could not see who they were. I only noted that one of 
them seized a sword from one of my comrades who was down 
and began to use it vigorously, while the other laid about him 
with a ponderous club. 

“You will find it hard to believe how quickly these two 
turned our defeat into a victory. But the one who had the 
sword — that proved to be Zatthu — knew how to use it and 
instantly gave one of the robbers a bad wound in the side that 
made him stop fighting. As for the other — he fought like a 
madman. Huis club was really a small log that he had by good 
chance picked up and he swung it so furiously that almost in 
the twinkling of an eye he had three robbers down on the 
ground. This seemed to take the heart out of them all. They 
acted as if they were scared and took to their heels, while I 
stood there dazed and wondering. 

“It was Shobek, of course, who had put such terror into the 
ruffans. I did not wonder as I looked him over and saw the 
monstrous club he had used. Two of the men he had laid low 
were groaning but had much life in them, and we knew their 
comrades would come and look after them. Two others were 
lying dead. Our Roman broadswords had dealt them the 
fatal thrust. Another was near his end. Shobek’s club had 
given him a death blow. Zatthu and Shobek were bending 
over him. 

*¢ ‘Mizpereth,’ I heard Shobek say to him, ‘as I had to kill 
some one, I am glad it was you. “T'was a foul deed you tried 
to do to a man who was kind to you and trusted you.’ 


872 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


** “Vet I am only sorry to see you lying here,’ said Zatthu. 
‘Don’t you want to say you are sorry you planned to betray 
me before you go out of the world?’ But Mizpereth, as they 
called him, only gasped out, 

**T wish I had given you up to the Romans and got the 
gold for it,’ and then he died. 

“Perhaps I have been making my story longer than I ought. 
It was how we captured Zatthu that you wanted to know. 
But I have had to tell all that happened first, for we didn’t 
capture him at all. You see I wasn’t able to lay hands on 
him or fight to kill him and Shobek. There I was, unhurt 
myself, but three of my four comrades were down and the 
fourth had a bad cut in the sword arm and could not fight. 
Shobek could have struck him down in an instant. Still, 
there was only one thing to do. I knew these must be the two 
I had been sent out to seize. So I said, 

“Are not you Zatthu and Shobek, the two Hebrews Rome 
has long been seeking?’ 

“‘ “Yes,’ said the leader. ‘We are Zatthu and Shobek.’ 

‘“‘ ‘Then surrender to me. I have been sent to capture you, 
and you must go with me to Cesarea.’ 

“To my astonishment Zatthu answered, 

“‘<T am ready to go with you. Lead me wherever you will.’ 

“The tall one seemed surprised, but he said without a mo- 
ment’s hesitation, 

“¢And I go wherever my leader goes.’ 

“ “Think twice,’ said Zatthu quickly. ‘I only spoke for my- 
self. They could not take you. You would best save your- 
self.’ 

“‘ ‘No,’ was the answer. ‘I have followed you too long to 
leave you now. I shall share your fate whatever that may be.’ 

“So I took them in charge and brought them here as soon 
as I could. Just how I had the wounded men looked after, I 
have reported to the centurion Decimus. So perhaps I had 


PART V—WAITING 373 


better end my story here, unless there are more things you 
would like to know.” 

“Only one more,” said Pilate. ‘“Zatthu and Shobek have 
been placed in prison, I suppose.” 

“Yes, and in chains.” 

“That is as it should be. You have done well. Go now, 
eat and rest.” 

The decurion and the soldier who had brought him in left 
the room. Pilate and Marcus sat a while in silence. Pilate 
wanted the centurion to speak first, but Marcus wished to 
hear the Procurator’s comments before he offered any of his 
own. Finally Pilate said in a tone of irony, 

“T suppose you feel more strongly than ever now that Zat- 
thu should be pardoned.” 

“Yes, and Shobek too.” 

“Perhaps you would ask the same for the hunchback if he 
were living.” 

“Hardly; he was an assassin.” 

“Do you know how he came to his end?” 

“Yes, he was killed in a cave by a spy of yours after first 
giving the fellow his death wound.” 

“Oho! How well posted you are! Now I understand why 
I have heard nothing from Pachru for some time. Well, I am 
glad the hunchback has gone where he can kill no more of my 
soldiers. He deserved the cross if ever a man did.” 

Pilate ceased and sat silent for a while. Again Marcus 
prudently refrained from pressing him with a plea for mercy. 
Presently Pilate put the question, 

“Marcus, do you think the emperor would pardon Zatthu 
and Shobek?” 

“Tiberius,” replied Marcus, “thas many moods. In his bet- 
ter moods I think he would do so.” 

“Zatthu is a strange being. I don’t know what to make of 
him. We will hear what he has to say for himself tomorrow.” 

On the following morning Zatthu and Shobek, with their 


374 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


fetters still upon them, were brought into the same official 
room in which Zatthu had been tried and sentenced more than 
a year before. Now as then he was face to face with Pilate 
and Marcus both. But in what a different spirit he faced 
them! He was humbled and weary-hearted, not defiant; and 
Pilate was now the puzzled questioner rather than the stern 
accuser. It was without trace of vindictiveness that he said, 
after noting Zatthu’s subdued manner, 

“You are not the same man that stood before me many 
months since. What. has changed you?” 

“Failure.” 

‘How have you failed?” 

“IT tried to make my people rise against Rome. They 
would not heed me.” 

‘Are they then contented with our rule?” 

“By no means. They detest it.” 

“Why P?? 

“Because it humiliates them and takes away from them all 
their sense of national greatness.” 

‘*Why then would they not heed your call to arms?” 

“Because,” said Zatthu with a sigh that revealed how his 
soul had been hurt, “I was not sent by Jehovah to free them 
as I, in my presumption, thought I was.” 

Pilate was so impressed with the prisoner’s frankness and 
his deep despondency that he eyed him closely for a moment 
before he questioned him further. A feeling of pity for one 
so thoroughly humbled was rising in him. Presently he said, 

“So Rome has nothing to fear from your people even 
though they resent her sway?” 

“T would not say that. The spirit of rebellion is strong in 
them. Sometime I believe Rome will find this out to her cost.” 

“You puzzle me. If your countrymen are so rebellious, 
why could you not make them rise?” 

“They have turned to another. They will listen to no one 
but him.” 


PART V—WAITING 375 
“Who is that?” 


“Jesus of Nazareth.” 

“Why do they regard him with such favor?” 

““He heals their diseases.” 

“How do you know that?” 

“Because they told me so. Because he healed mine.” 

“He healed your own? How was that?” 

“T was dying of a wound and of the fever it caused, when 
all of a sudden I found myself well.” 

“As not uncommonly happens with those who are sick. 
How easily we deceive ourselves! But if the people think 
this Jesus heals them and they are becoming devoted to him, 
is he not dangerous? Will not he stir up strife against 
Rome?” 

“TY think not. He does not use seditious speech and he has 
offended the men of learning and authority who could lead in 
such a cause. But I do not understand him. I do not under- 
stand him at all. He has been a stumbling block in my path, 
and yet I owe him my life. I have yet to learn what is the 
secret of his power and what he is really trying to do for my 
nation.” 

“You speak as if your courage were gone. Was that why 
* you surrendered yourself two days ago? ‘The officer who 
brought you here has told me that he could not have taken 
you.” 

‘Yes, that was why. I had nothing to live for. I was tired 
of being hunted. I thought I would end it all.” 

“That robber whom your comrade killed — what was his 
name?” 

*““Mispereth.” 

**“He planned to betray you, I believe.” 

“Yes, he would have done so if my comrade here and I had 
not fled from the robbers’ lair where we were sheltered for a 
time.” 

“And was it because of his treachery that you fought 


3876 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


against the robbers and saved the band of Roman soldiers 
from being destroyed?” 

“Not at all. I saw that the soldiers were trying to protect 
travellers from being plundered. ‘They were being cut down 
while doing their plain duty. It was only right to go to their 
assistance. I cherish no hatred toward the robbers. I was 
not trying to pay them back.” 

‘Would you show the way to their den?” 

“It would be useless. They keep shifting their resort. 
Without doubt they changed it as soon as Shobek and I 
escaped from them. Still, I should be loath to aid in track- 
ing them. Their deeds are evil, but they took me in when I 
was wounded and fleeing for my life.” 

“T still fail to understand you. You say you were tired of 
being hunted and you thought you would end it all. Is it not 
better to be hunted than to be crucified?” 

“Perhaps. It is a choice between long wearisome years of 
privation, suffering and anxiety, and a few hours of agony.” 

“And you deliberately chose the few hours of agony?” 

“That I would hardly say. When I rushed with my friend 
to defeat the robbers and save your soldiers from death, I 
had but one thought, to thwart an inhuman deed. When that 
was accomplished and your soldiers rescued but crippled, I 
merely acted on the impulse that then came to me.” 

“But was there not something behind that impulse? Did 
you think, perhaps,” and here Pilate looked very searchingly 
at the man he was questioning as if he would read his inmost 
thought, “that because you had rescued Roman soldiers from 
death you would be pardoned?” 

“Y was not so presumptuous. Roman justice is too sum- 
mary and unbending to have allowed me so to think. Yet one 
thought, one memory rather, did flash upon my mind as I 
gave myself up to your soldiers.” 

“What was that?” asked Pilate with a little more eagerness 
than he had shown before. 


PART V—WAITING 377 


“That when I formerly stood here before you and held up 
my manacled hands, you ordered my fetters to be stricken 
off.” 

As Zatthu said this, Marcus wanted much to look at Pilate 
and see how these words impressed him. He did not however 
venture to do so, but he caught Zatthu’s eye for an instant 
and showed him sympathy and approval by one of those 
glances that are so subtly charged with meaning. Had Mar- 
cus gazed at Pilate, he would easily have seen a faint gleam 
of gratification pass over his mobile face. Not at once did he 
continue his questioning. When he did so, it was in a milder 
tone than he had used before that he said, 

“You say you have nothing to live for. If you were free, 
should you not soon be lifting voice and hand against Rome 
once more?” 

“Not unless my countrymen should all rise against Rome. 
For me it is a broken hope.” 

“And your comrade — what are his feelings?” 

“Speak for yourself, Shobek,” said Zatthu. ‘‘You know 
you are now your own man absolutely. I have no claim upon 
you.” 

“For these many months,” said Shobek, “I have had but 
one thought, one purpose — to follow Zatthu and give my 
life for him if in that way I could serve him and Israel. But 
the cause has failed. My heart has turned from it. I cannot 
think of myself as warring against Rome any more.” 

“But you have warred against Rome,” said Pilate with a 
touch of asperity, “and to the sorrow of those who stood 
against you. More than once you have slain Roman soldiers. 
When you gave yourself up, you knew, of course the fate 
that awaited you?” 

“Yes, I understood.” 

“Then why did you not fly instead of surrendering?” 

“My leader gave himself up. I could not desert him.” 

“Not though you knew you were to die upon the cross?” 


378 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“No. I should have despised myself all my life if I had let 
him go to his death alone.” 

Again Pilate sat silent for awhile. After a time that 
seemed long to all present, who out of the various feelings of 
curlosity, sympathy, or direct personal concern were waiting 
eagerly, he said, 

“You are two misguided men. You have committed crimes 
that Rome punishes with death. Yet you have fought side _ 
by side with Rome’s soldiers and saved their lives. Let that — 
deed outweigh your offenses, seeing that you have wholly 
abandoned your purpose of freeing Judea from the Roman 
power. Decimus, take off the prisoners’ fetters. ‘They are 
free.” 





PART V—WAITING 379 


VI 


Of those who heard Pilate’s merciful mandate Shobek was 
the most elated. He looked at Zatthu with eyes that fairly 
shone with joy. Ever since their surrender he had been think- 
ing of the man he had so faithfully followed, not of himself. 
That this man, so downcast, so long enduring, could now 
walk in freedom instead of looking forward to a torturing 
death filled him with delight. 

But Marcus rejoiced also. After the two captives had 
been released from their fetters and had expressed to Pilate 
their appreciation of his magnanimity, the big-hearted cen- 
turion took each of them by the hand and told them how glad 
he was that the Procurator had seen fit to pronounce a sen- 
tence of mercy instead of rigid Roman justice. 

Zatthu had so far betrayed no emotion over his unexpected 
liberty. His manner was still subdued and sober. But he gave 
an answering pressure when Marcus took him by the hand, 
and he gazed very earnestly into the centurion’s frank strong 
countenance and said, 

“T should like to know you. Will you let me talk with you 
some time?” 

“Gladly. The Procurator wishes me to go with him on a 
brief tour of inspection now. Inquire for me an hour hence at 
his house. You shall talk with me then as long as you wish.” 

The two met in a small audience room in the house of the 
procurator. To encourage his visitor Marcus said at once, 

‘‘What was in your mind was in mine also. It will be a 
pleasure to get acquainted with your thoughts, your purposes, 
your desires, if you count me worthy to share them.” 

“Worthy to share them? What a strange Roman you are! 
Your countrymen are above all things arrogant and proud. 
How is it you are so unlike them?” 


3880 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“My father was not too arrogant and proud to count Eliud 
Merari as his friend and to revere him.” 

“He too must be unlike most Romans. Does he also wor- 
ship our Jehovah?” 

SN o,?? 

‘““How came you to do so? Do you care to tell me?” 

This was a story Marcus was entirely willing to relate to 
one of Zatthu’s deep religious feeling. So he told how he and 
Naarah had been brought together, and how, when he was 
wounded and Naarah sang Hebrew Psalms at his bedside, he 
heard for the first time in his life a strain that spoke to his 
soul. He began then to hear from Naarah about the Sacred 
Writings of the Hebrews and after a time to read them for 
himself. In them he saw the truth and Naarah’s faith became 
his own because his reason told him it was true. 

“T feel as if I could trust your reason,” said Zatthu when 
he ended, “as I can trust that of no other man. By turning 
from your Roman religion to our own you showed that you 
are always trying to see what is true. So, strange as it is for 
me to look to you for light and guidance, I must do so. From 
the leaders and teachers of my own people I can get no help.” 

“Not from Eliud Merari?” 

“Perhaps from him. I shall go to him to see. But he is 
very old. He speaks rather as a prophet than as a man who 
judges from what he sees and hears day by day. And help I 
sorely need, for since I have failed utterly in my one cherished 
purpose, I dare not rely on my own judgment. One ques- 
tion, then, one burning question I must put to you: What 
think you of Jesus of Nazareth?” 

Marcus was startled by this searching question. The large 
dark eyes that gazed with a burning intensity into his own 
made him feel a strange sense of responsibility. And it was 
a responsibility which he did not seem able to evade. This man 
who had had such a shattering experience was looking into 
his very soul to see if there were aught there to strengthen 


PART V—WAITING 381 


him. So Marcus gave a full account of Hacho’s cure — Zat- 
thu not deeming it wise or best to reveal that he had already 
heard that wonderful story — and of the sum of his impres- 
sions after observing Jesus and noting both his words and his 
movements month after month. 

“Then you, one of the appointed guardians of Rome’s 
authority, see in this man no menace to her power?” 

‘So far, none.”’ 

“Yet Galilee is aflame with devotion to him. The common 
people throng about him, they hang upon his words, they 
believe he has been sent by Jehovah to be their deliverer.” 

“Their deliverer from what?” 

“That is the burning question. It is enthusiasm, not rea- 
son, that rules them. They believe he will lead them to great- 
ness, but how, they have little idea. Still, there has been but 
one way for a people to grow great, and that is by the sword.” 

“Does he ever urge the sword? Can you think of him as 
heading an army or using the sword?” 

“No, I confess that I cannot.” 

“No more can I. That he is greater than any of your 
leaders and prophets of the olden days, I cannot help believ- 
ing. That he has come to do something more wonderful for 
your nation than has yet been wrought, I feel sure. But 
what, I cannot say. I am simply waiting to see.” 

‘Something more wonderful for my nation than has yet 
been wrought — yes, it would seem that with his power to 
hea] and his power to make men follow him that should be so. 
And yet he is destroying, not building up. Instead of uniting 
all my countrymen he is sowing dissension among them. The 
common people go after him like sheep; the scribes and 
Pharisees turn away from him with scorn.” 

“Though I worship Jehovah I am not a Hebrew, and in this 
division I have no part. Yet of one thing I am confident; it 
is the common people, not the scribes and the Pharisees, who 
are right.” 


382. ZATTHU-—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“To my humiliation I am coming to think so too, though I 
am of the Pharisees myself, and till Jesus healed me I shared 
the scorn they feel for him.” 

“Why not go again to Merari? Perhaps it is just his pro- 
phetic vision that will reveal what is to be. We grope. Rea- 
son and judgment will not pierce the veil that hides the 
future.” 

“That I will do. You say rightly that reason and judg- 
ment will not prophesy for us. But your reason and your 
judgment have helped mine and I am grateful to you. A year 
back you were trying to capture me and take me to my death. 
Now I come to you for counsel. What, I wonder, is yet to 
happen to me? My pride is gone. But perhaps I need to be 
humbled further still.” 

The two parted like friends. Each had inspired the other 
with liking and respect. And Zatthu showed deference to 
Marcus’ advice by going directly from Cesarea to Nazareth, 
that he might there see Eliud Merari again. 

First however he said goodbye to Shobek who found him- 
self forced, much to his own dissatisfaction, to abide with his 
father and resume the humble occupation he had left to follow 
Zatthu. 

“Let me go with you,” he implored. “I cannot just sell 
figs and oil day after day now that I have wandered with you 
and Kelita all over Palestine and .. .” 

‘And laid Roman legionaries low with giant clubs and with 
ponderous stones,” added Zatthu as the big Hebrew hesitated 
to complete the sentence. “No, Shobek. It must not be. 
May Jehovah reward you for your devotion to the cause. In 
my heart I shall bless you for it as long as I live. But it has 
failed. What TI shall do now I do not know. But for a time 
at least I wish to be by myself and wander and think alone. 
So, Goodbye it must be.” 

At Nazareth he found Merari as mentally alert as ever and 


PART V—WAITING 383 


to the old man he showed the same chastened spirit in which 
he had sought Marcus. 

“Jehovah,” he said, “smote those with whom He was sore 
displeased. He chided Moses for resisting his will. He took 
away King David’s child and cast the King down into the 
very dust. So has He dealt with me. A year ago I looked 
with scorn on Jesus of Nazareth and I proudly planned to 
call down Jehovah’s vengeance upon Rome, And here I am, 
raised from my dying bed by this same Jesus of Nazareth and 
pardoned by Pilate when Roman justice demanded that I 
should hang upon the cross.” 

“Do as David did, my son,” was the old man’s answer. 
“Thank Jehovah. He has done for you the best that He can 
ever do for any child of his. Now you can begin to see and 
know the truth.” 

“T wish I could,” said Zatthu dejectedly. ‘That is the very 
thing I want to do. But, alas, I am still groping.” 

The two then talked long together. Merari reiterated his 
belief in Jesus of Nazareth, but how he was to bring in a new 
day for Israel, he, Merari, could not say. He felt sure how- 
ever that something mighty was to happen very soon. A 
great light was to dawn, but first there was to be darkness, 
a strange and terrible darkness. That was all he could say. 

“Ought I to go and join those publicans and fishermen he 
has drawn about him?” inquired Zatthu. “Is that what Jeho- 
vah is asking of me to complete my humiliation?” 

“No. Jesus has not called you, nor have you yet the feel- 
ing about him that should make you one of his personal fol- 
lowers. Watch and wait. If the light comes, as I am sure it 
will, you will see it and will know then what to do.” 

This suggestion so well accorded with Zatthu’s own incli- 
nation that he determined to follow it. Watch and wait! 
Yes, that must be his lot till the call to some clearly defined 
path came unmistakably. And he was not sorry to be inac- 


tive. As he had told Shobek, he felt the desire to be much by 


9 


384 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


himself. His great purpose having come utterly to naught, 
his life now seemed to him much like a tree that had budded 
vigorously but had been prevented from bearing fruit by suc- 
cessive stormy blasts. How should he make it blossom again? 

With this mood upon him he lingered several days at Naza- 
reth, studying the people there, studying his nation’s Sacred 
Books which he borrowed from Merari, and trying to see all 
that his own past had to teach him. Then he went down to 
the Sea of Galilee and-on to Capernaum. 

He was not eager to go to the house of Aristarchus, in spite 
of the fact that Thisoa was never long absent from his 
thoughts. For again and again it came to him strongly that 
it was his country, his oppressed and misguided country, that 
should engross his mind. A prophet had come, yet only to 
cause division. As a Hebrew and a patriot he must for a 
time at any rate put aside all thoughts of his own private 
gratification. 

But he had left these ever loyal friends with an almost 
stern refusal to accept their hospitality and with the asser- 
tion that his offences against Rome had put a lasting barrier 
between him and them; and now the barrier was down. This 
they had doubtless learned from Marcus. But it would be 
only a decent recognition of their kindness to go to them and 
show himself as a man no longer under the Roman ban, and 
say a less austere and gloomy farewell. 

As he drew near the house of the Greek merchant, he found 
himself anticipating the cordial welcome that would surely be 
given him. To his astonishment however the first to welcome 
him was Shobek who saw him coming and ran to meet him. 

“Why, Shobek!”? he exclaimed, “‘how is it that I find you 
here? Have you got so used to wandering that you are going 
to keep it up all your days? I should be sorry to think I had 
done that for you.” 

“T’ve wandered too much to be a trader again. Three days 
of that was quite enough for me.” 


PART V—WAITING 385 


**And so you came here?” 

“And so I came here.” 

“Are you going to attach yourself to Aristarchus?” 

“Yes, I begged him to let me serve him. He said that he 
should be very glad to have with him on his travels a man that 
wielded as big a club as I did.” 

‘**He is a shrewd man, Shobek. He has the wisdom for 
which the Greeks are famous. I shall tell his wife and daugh- 
ter they need never be anxious now when he goes upon his 
journeys.” 

“If the need comes [ll fight hard for him. But I don’t 
want to crack any more heads or break any more backs, even 
of robbers. A chance to make these big hands of mine useful 
is all I desire. Trinion gives me things to do. I was setting 
out a camphire bush for him when I saw you coming and ran 
to greet you.” | 

“You are a fortunate man, Shobek. I wish I could busy 
myself in setting out camphire bushes and could keep these 
wearing and perplexing thoughts out of my mind.” 

“Why not do it? Moses kept Jethro’s flocks. Why 
shouldn’t you set out camphire bushes for Aristarchus?” 

“Because I must travel up and down the land, watch what 
is going on, think about it and see what I can make out of 
it all.” 

‘“‘We Hebrews must all of us watch what is going on and 
see what we can make out of it. I shall do that even while I 
am working over camphire bushes. The man from Nazareth 
is stirring the whole nation. I have to think about him as 
well as you.” 

“And what do you think about him, Shobek?” 

“Only this, that I would stand with him rather than with 
his enemies.” 

‘And shall you? Will he need you sometime?” 

“As to that, I am in the dark. I shall work here with 
Trinion till the light comes.” 


386 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“T am in the dark too, Shobek; and I shall wander and 
watch and think till the light comes.” 

“Perhaps it will come in a way that we don’t look for.” 

“That is well said. For a long while after you joined me 
at Cesarea things happened that we did not look for till at 
last we found shelter in a robbers’ den, and I was raised up 
from death to life by the man who had wrecked my hopes and 
brought me low. Yes, you say well, Shobek, that the light 
may come in a way we.do not look for. But let us not fail to 
see 1t when it comes. But I must let you go now to your 
camphire bush while I seek my good friends within.” 

Zatthu received the warm welcome he had been sure of, but 
again he refused the hospitality generously proffered and 
after a brief hour departed. He made it plain that his one 
thought now was for his people and that he must mingle with 
them, now here now there, think for them and labor for them 
whenever he saw the way open. But he assured these unfail- 
ingly loyal friends that, having been loaded with kindness by 
them when everything looked dark for him, he should not 
forget them now that he was rejoicing in his freedom, and 
that they would see him from time to time. 

To Thisoa this was slender comfort and her heart was very 
sore as Zatthu went away. She was still unaware that Zat- 
thu’s feeling for her was very deep, even deeper than his fer- 
vent desire to serve his distracted nation. 


PART V—WAITING 387 


VII 


It was with a resolute but by no means a hurried step that 
Zatthu walked away from the house that in dark days had 
been a home to him. He was to live for his people. Their 
taste of joy and sorrow alike was to be his also. Yet to have 
seen Thisoa and then to turn away from her without opening 
his whole mind to her and drawing courage from her sym- 
pathy was hard. His determination was unshaken, but his 
heart was insurgent and sore. He would gratify its yearn- 
ings by lingering just a little while where her presence might 
still be almost felt. 

So he wandered to the old olive which he knew to be a favor- 
ite resort of hers and sat beneath it while he looked out on the 
blue expanse of Gennesaret. 

For a while he found a melancholy satisfaction in review- 
ing the memories of his sojourn under Aristarchus’ roof. But 
quickly the forbidding future loomed before him; the burden 
of his thoughts grew oppressive; and he relieved himself by 
a long drawn sigh. As he did so he became conscious of a 
presence that the intensity of his own bitter contemplation 
had prevented him from noting before. And even before he 
had thoroughly roused himself and turned his eyes full on 
this intruder upon his solitude, he heard the timid yet star- 
tling inquiry, 

“Do you want to see Jesus of Nazareth?” 

It was a young girl, hardly more than a child, that stood 
near him — yes, a child in stature but with a serious and 
strangely wistful face. He looked at her in wonder for a mo- 
ment and then said, 

“What makes you ask that?” 

“Because I thought you were in trouble. You didn’t see me 
though I have been standing here for quite a while, and you 


3888. ZATTHU-—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


looked to me very sad, and at last you gave a great long 
sigh.” 

“But why should Jesus of Nazareth help me?” 

“Oh, he helps every one. He loves to help. There isn’t 
_any thing he can’t do.” 

“tow do you know that?” 

“Because he helped me. Would you like to know what he 
did for me?” 

“Yes, I should be very glad to know” — “more glad than 
you have any idea of,” added Zatthu to himself. For the 
child’s innocent trustful speech was like balm to his troubled 
spirit. 

“YT hope you will believe what I say,” said the girl as she 
sat down beside him. “I should not tell you if it was not true. 
Once or twice before what I am going to tell of happened, I 
told a lie and felt dreadfully about it afterward. But I never 
tell any now. It would be an awful thing to do, for Jesus 
would feel very, very sad if he knew of it. He would say: 
‘That was the little girl I gave back to her father and mother 
after she had died, and now she tells a lie. For that is what 
he did. I was very sick. The doctor could not cure me and I 
died. Oh, you don’t know how grieved my mother was; and 
my father and my friend Thisoa, they felt very badly too. 
But Jesus of Nazareth came into the room where I was lying 
and told me to arise. And then I just had to come back to 
life. Wasn’t it wonderful?” 

“You were really dead?” 

“Yes, I was seeing beautiful lights and faces, but I had to 
turn away from them and come back to father and mother 
and Thisoa. You do believe it all, don’t you?” 

The inquiry was so wistfully made that Zatthu gave the 
girl a reassuring smile and answered, 

“Yes, I believe it and do you want to know why?” 

“Yes, indeed. Do tell me!” 


PART V—WAITING 389 


“It is because, only a little more than two Sabbaths ago, I 
was dying myself and Jesus called me back to life.” 

“Oh,” cried the child delightedly, “then you know how won- 
derful he is. But,” she went on, looking serious again, “why 
don’t you go to him now and tell him what it is that troubles 
you? I am sure he would make you happy again.” 

“Perhaps he would. Perhaps he will. But there are 
troubles that are not cured as easily as sicknesses. Have you 
ever seen him since he brought you back to life?” 

“Only once or twice:when there were people all about him. 
I do long sometimes to see him and taik with him, but he has 
all the people in the world to help, and after what he did for 
me it would be wrong of me to trouble him any more. Just 
think how busy he would be if all those whom he cured were 
to seek him and try to tell him how grateful they were!” 

“Busy indeed,” said Zatthu wonderingly, for the child’s 
delicacy of feeling and perception deeply impressed him. 
“But you like to speak about him to others, I can see; and so 
you thought I ought to go to him because I was in trouble?” 

““Yes; whenever I see any persons sad or sick, I can’t help 
wanting to tell them to go to Jesus of Nazareth.” 

“They will bless you for it, lam sure. I thank you with all 
my heart, though Jesus has already done for me what no one 
else could have done. Yes, I thank you and I want to know 
your name.” 

“T am Naomi.” 

‘And you are a friend of Thisoa?” 

“Yes, yes! She is my very dear friend. I love her more 
than any one but father and mother. Do you know her too?” 

“Yes, I know her. I am Zatthu. I was in her father’s 
house for a whole month a year ago.” 

“Oh, are- you Zatthu, the man of my own people whom 
Thisoa hid so cunningly from the Romans? She told me all 
about that, but I never saw you when you lived in the house. 
I should think you would love Thisoa too.” 


390 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“TY think all do who know her.” 

“T am sure they do. I do not see how they could help it. 
But if you are Zatthu and know her so well, I should think 
you might help her. You know how sad she is don’t you?” 

“N-no,” said Zatthu hesitatingly, not quite knowing how 
to stop the child and yet feeling that she was beginning to 
touch on things he ought not to hear. 

“Yes, she is sometimes very sad. She sits here under this 
tree and looks out on the lake for a long time without speak- 
ing. I have sometimes thought she was missing some one; 
but I don’t know who it could be. She has her father and 
mother — her father does go away very often but it’s never 
for long—and she never had any brothers and sisters. I 
wonder if it is some friend that she wants very much to see. 
But people don’t miss friends like that, do they?” 

. “Shouldn’t you miss Thisoa if she was very long away so 
that you could not see her?” 

“Oh, yes! I should miss her more than I could tell. But 
she is my very, very own friend, not like any other — and 
then, why, she is Thisoa and she is so dear!” 

“T am glad she has you for a friend and I am sure it makes 
her happy to talk with you. It has made me feel better than 
I did. When I think of Jesus of Nazareth, as I shall do every 
day, I shall sometimes think of you also. I am going away 
from Capernaum now; but some day I shall come back again, 
and when I do I shall want to see you, and now, Goodbye.” 

“Goodbye. Are you going where you will see Jesus of 
Nazareth?” 

“Not right away. Some time perhaps I may see him.” 

“Tf you should ever see him and talk with him, would you 
tell him that the little girl he brought to life after she was 
dead thinks of him every day?” 

“Yes, I will tell him that if I should ever talk with him and 
make him understand how grateful I am to him for healing 
mes"? | 


PART V—WAITING 391 


Zatthu’s mind was deeply stirred as he walked away. The 
girl’s innocent and artless speech had roused in him per- 
turbing questions. Was Thisoa’s interest in him more than 
friendly? Was it of him that she was thinking when she sat 
long in silence by the lakeside? And was it with tender and 
intense solicitude that she had begged Jesus to heal him? He 
wondered if he ought to go to her now, reveal the depth of his 
own feeling for her and invite her to show him her own heart. 
But no! It was not the moment to do that. He would cling 
to his purpose and devote himself now wholly to his people. 
If it was Jehovah’s will that he was to share all with this 
alien girl, the way would in due time be shown. He would 
leave Capernaum at once and set his face toward Jerusalem. 


392 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


Vill 


The multitude of the heavenly host that appeared to the 
wondering shepherds when Jesus was born at Bethlehem must 
have watched him with profound solicitude through all his 
years upon the earth. By them was felt the depth of his sor- 
row, the awfulness of his conflicts and the unutterable anguish 
of his solitude. For to them was known his mission of redemp- 
tion and the meaning of the sacrifice for which it called. 

Nor could the hosts of darkness have been ignorant of the 
nature of the Son of Man. It was to shatter their own power 
and to save men from its blighting influence that he was born 
into the world. They too understood his mission. 'Too well 
they understood it; malignantly they tried to thwart it; 
exultant would they be to see it fail. 

So tountless unseen multitudes were watching Jesus of 
Nazareth. They had watched him unceasingly, absorbingly, 
as he met temptation, wrought miracles of healing, was trans- 
figured on the mountain and roused both hatred and devotion 
when he spoke as no other man had ever spoken. And more 
anxiously than ever did they watch him now that the last 
days were at hand. Gethsemane and Calvary were near. 
Would they bring the world redemption or limitless eternal 
loss? These invisible hosts of ight and darkness were wait- 
ing to see! Yes, with a solicitude that was thrilling beyond 
all human power to understand, they were waiting to sce. 

‘And even so did those on the earth who saw and knew Jesus 
and who wondered at him, watch and wait. Eagerly, impa- 
tiently they were waiting. Friends and foes alike were rest- 
less over his failure to declare himself a king. Then would 
come his day of glory, thought the believing multitudes. 
Then will come his utter downfall, reasoned the scornful 
Pharisees. But he went on healing and teaching, and no 


PART V—WAITING 393 


crisis came. So in eager expectancy his movements were ob- 
served all over Palestine. 

The High Priest in Jerusalem observed them with the 
gravest concern. With his fellow ecclesiastics he felt that the 
very foundations of the ancient Hebrew worship were being 
destroyed. The people were mad to follow after this impos- 
tor who daily did the most shocking and impious things. To 
what follies would he lead these deluded throngs! Of what 
sacrilege would he make them guilty! They must eye him 
with vigilance and forstall his wicked schemes. 

Their thought was shared by the Pharisees and the Herod- 
ians — the latter corrupt, selfish and time-serving, the former 
proud and intensely loyal to the Jewish tradition. But 
natively antagonistic though the two sects were, they were 
one in their venomous dislike of Jesus and their fear that he 
would set an unclean rabble over them. So they viewed his 
every act with suspicion and were ready to dog his steps. 

And the people, so despised and so devoted — how ardently 
they longed for this beneficent healer to assume his kingship! 
What wonders would he then perform! How would he cast 
down the mighty and destroy the proud! And the blessings 
he would rain down on themselves, his faithful ones, would be 
measureless. It was with high fond hopes that they waited 
for their leader to show the world his greatness. 

Yet with greater eagerness still his chosen disciples looked 
to the hour that should make them sit in his own reflected 
glory. Their selfish ambitions he rebuked. They were to be 
as little children, not to sit on thrones. Still, they could not 
believe the coming grandeur would fail to lift them into 
state and splendor. So they looked for it and yearned for it. 
Anxiously they watched their Master to note the first signs 
of its coming. 

What was thus awaited all through Judea and Galilee was 
anticipated also by those who figure largely in these pages. 
From his home in Nazareth Merari looked forth over the 


394 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


Valley of Esdraelon and hoped to see a new day for Israel 
dawn. Marcus and Naarah, and Hacho too who was friend as 
well as servant, talked often of Jesus and wondered when and 
what he would do for his people. ‘Thisoa’s thought was ever 
turned to him, for she had a strange feeling that the light he 
was to usher in would banish her own darkness and take away 
the soreness of her heart. With Naomi, ever affectionate and 
ever warmly sympathizing,, she shared this hope without re- 
vealing her pent-up emotion; and she found the little maid a 
true comforter. For she, who had felt the touch of the heal- 
ing hand of Jesus, had no doubt of his power to make the 
entire world whole. To talk of him and of the wondrous 
things he said and did was the very joy of her heart. 

Shobek also proved to be a friend in this troublous hour. 
The clear-sighted youth had seen in Jesus the dawning of a 
great hope; and Zatthu’s failure, as he frankly assured 
Thisoa, made him still more ready to believe that the healer 
of Nazareth would be the redeemer of the nation. And if 
Aristarchus and Xenodice had too untroubled a life to make 
this same faith vivid in them, they yet shared it in a measure. 
All the land was talking of this worker of wonders and viewing 
him with the liveliest interest. Tio them too he therefore 
became a commanding figure, called to some strange and lofty 
destiny. 

And Zatthu? Night and day the humbled but still zealous 
Hebrew kept his thoughts fixed on the man who had delivered 
him from death. Steadfastly, untiringly he too waited and 
watched. That mysterious future, with promise of weal or 
woe according to the hearts of the beholder, he, like all, failed 
to penetrate. Yet he was sure it would bring blessing; and to 
make it do so he would strive with all his strength. It was a 
prophet that had come to Israel — a prophet, he was now 
persuaded, greater than had been seen of old. 

Meanwhile the Gentiles sat in darkness and were content. 
Rome on her seven hills felt peaceful and secure. The world 


PART V—WAITING | 395 


was at her feet. She neither knew nor thought of Him who 
said with a meaning she could not have fathomed, “I have 
overcome the world.” With proud confidence she reflected 
that through her boundless dominions she had established the 
reign of peace and law. ‘Through her unconquerable might 
the sun looked down by day and the stars by night on seas 
white with the sails of commerce and on vales that laughed 
with fertility and echoed to the reaper’s song. Rebellion was 
as easily crushed as the tiniest snake beneath the rustic’s heel. 
War in its pomp and its terrors was no more and the archway 
of Janus remained unopened year by year. Why then should 
the haughty mistress of the world take note that Judea was 
in ferment and that all eyes there were turned toward the man 
whose fan was in his hand and who was making ready to 
gather the wheat into his garner and to burn the chaff? 
What if he brought a crisis in that restless strip of country? 
His own people might all look to him with high hope or with 
overshadowing fear. ‘To the far-off city on the Tiber he was 
as nothing. So Rome slumbered on in her dense unbroken 
night, while the light was growing that was soon to lighten 
the world. 


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A bate hy Me 


“(shee ae 


ay i Wey ria 
Dyas i iti wht vn ed ra h Poi! 
: er Pen iNe ea oA Sree re 4 ee wenn ty * 





Part VI 
DARKNESS AND DAY 


baie: 
a8 tay M 
"i Wyant Vj 
: VE ra ian 
Hh Wea AUS peat ‘ 
Mi 
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Par IW) 
BA aan 





PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 399 


I 


Yes, Jesus of Nazareth was nearing the end of his mission 
upon earth. For more than two years the storm had been 
gathering about him. In its full fury it was soon to burst. 

Hatred had followed him from the very moment when he 
began to speak and act. At Nazareth they would fain have 
killed him, and he left his childhood’s home to dwell at Ca- 
pernaum. Thence he went soon to Jerusalem to give mortal 
offence to the whole priestly class when he scourged out of the 
temple the traders and money-changers who defiled it and 
whose practices were yet sanctioned by the priests themselves. 
He went back to Capernaum and told it that it was worse 
than Sodom because the mighty works that had been done in 
it had not won it to repentence, and it would be brought down 
to hell. And the mighty works were done. They were done . 
day after day. The multitudes were healed of all manner of 
diseases and a flame of joy and exaltation ran through all 
the country round. Those who were not the slaves of tradi- 
tion hailed this friend and deliverer as one sent from on high. 

And even at Jerusalem there were synagogue rulers who 
bowed to the purity and the majesty of Jesus in spite of the 
scorn and the wrath which he aroused. But they dared not 
follow or defend him, for the scorn and the wrath were deadly. 
This healer broke a Commandment of Moses, for even in their 
sacred Jerusalem he cured a man upon the Sabbath. And 
this crime he magnified by declaring that God was his Father 
and making himself equal with God. Then and there they 
would have slain him, but their fury called forth such a 
sublime strain of vindication and rebuke that they were 
utterly overawed. “Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that 
heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me hath ever- 
lasting life. . . . But I know you, that ye have not the love 
of God in you. I am come in my Father’s name, and ye 


400 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


receive me not; if another shall come in his own name, him ye 
will receive.” 

After such a tremendous issue between himself and those 
who would destroy him there must come a season of calm. He 
goes.back to Capernaum. He teaches and he heals. The mul- 
titudes throng after him. He crosses Gennesaret. They fol- 
low him there. They are without bread and he feeds them. 
With these simple and unlearned people his power becomes 
unbounded, even as the Divine power grows in him without 
bound or measure. For his submission to the Father’s will is 
absolute and that will begins to manifest its awful holiness. 
On towering Hermon it shines through him in unclouded 
brightness and the three beholding disciples are overwhelmed 
by its dazzling radiance. 

But not in revealed sanctity upon the mountain side and not 
chiefly in deeds of love and mercy to the faithful is he now to 
spend his days. Jerusalem ever calls him — Jerusalem, with 
its turbulent life, its splendid ritual, its august temple; Jeru- 
salem, which had been the nation’s glory and was still the 
nation’s hope. It was there that the solemn feasts were held 
— the Feast of Tabernacles, the Feast of the Dedication and 
the Feast of the Passover. In these he must have a part. He 
set his steps toward Jerusalem when these ceremonies were to 
be observed. 

Kach time his coming brings a storm and he knows that it 
will be so. Fiercer, ever fiercer burns the hatred of his ene- 
mies. Loftier grows his own self-assertion— inevitably so, 
for the self that he is asserting is the Divine Self that is tak- 
ing possession of him wholly. But the eyes of the Jews were 
blinded to that self and to them its utterances were therefore 
blasphemous. On the last, the great day, of the Feast of the 
Tabernacles, he cried, “If any man thirst, let him come unto 
me and drink. He that believeth on me, as the Scripture hath 
said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water.” Not 
to be endured were such words as these from the son of a car- 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 401 


penter of Nazareth. Officers were sent by the chief priests 
and the Pharisees to seize him, but again the majestic mien 
and the awe inspiring words were a shield. The officers stood 
enthralled and could only report to those who had sent them, 
“Never man spake like this man.” 

Altogether human, however, is the figure that can thus use 
superhuman speech and rise to a superhuman grandeur. 
Jesus still is and to the last remains the very personification 
of gentleness and tenderness. To all who will open their 
minds and hearts to him he is the same kind friendly man that 
took little children in his arms and raised to life the widow’s 
son. In these stormy days when he sees the Cross drawing 
very near and passionate hate ready to engulf him as a sea, 
how lke balm to his spirit must have been every opportunity 
to do a deed of mercy or to pass into a sphere of true, under- 
standing affection! He turns away from his raging and 
malignant enemies to spend a quiet hour in the home of Mar- 
tha and Mary; he gives sight to the man blind from his birth; 
from the man who was dumb he cast out the devil that pos- 
sessed him; and he spoke the words that went to the very soul 
of the woman he had saved from a cruel death. 

It is in Judea, not far from Jerusalem, or in the city itself, 
that he does these things. Not very far from it does he ever 
wander now, and to it he once more goes when the Feast of 
the Dedication comes round. And he goes to astound the 
priests and the Pharisees by his claims. “I and my Father 
are one,” he now asserts, and they who heard him took up 
stones to stone him. But again they are impotent and “he 
escaped out of their hands.” 

This tempest of passion and malignity must be allowed to 
quiet. Once more he shuns the atmosphere of persecution and 
misunderstanding, and this time he withdraws beyond the 
Jordan to the country where John at first baptized. Once 
more he refreshes his soul by speaking to simple unembittered 
hearts, and by ministering to any who are in need. Here 


402 ZAT'THU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


many believed on him. Here he was visited by those Phari- 
sees, friendly but all too few, who came to warn him against 
Herod; and here he wept over Jerusalem because it would 
not take the salvation which he brought and was therefore 
doomed to perish. 

It was this same deep tender yearning affection that now 
called him back into Judea. Well did the two sisters, Mary 
and Martha, understand it, and they now summoned him in 
their hour of need. Their brother Lazarus was sick and they 
sent word of it to Jesus, feeling sure that that would be 
enough. He came, but not at once; and he found that Laz- 
arus had died. For this friend whom he loved he is sorely 
grieved and he sheds tears. He sheds tears and then brings 
him back to life, thus completing those deep contrasts that 
transcend the range of a merely human nature and a merely 
human experience. The Jesus who said “I am meek and lowly 
of heart,” was the Jesus through whom the divine glory shone 
upon Mount Hermon. The Jesus who let the woman bathe 
his feet with her tears and wipe them with her hair was the 
one who made the hostility of the priests and the Pharisees 
blaze into unquenchable hatred by his scathing words of 
rebuke. Every time he stood before them he was the stern 
accuser who called them to account for their sins, and infuri- 
ated them by the very majesty of his presence and his speech. 
For it was no petty spirit of self-love or of revenge that 
spurred these men on against him and made them his implac- 
able foes. It was his self-assertion even more than his censure 
that intensified their rage. The feeling that drove them on to 
seek his life was not merely wounded pride, but horror — hor- 
ror at words and deeds that outraged their ancient holy wor- 
ship and smote at the very heart of the nation’s life. Was not 
this life given and directed by Jehovah even from the days of 
Abraham? And this man, this carpenter’s son, made himself 
one with the awful Jehovah to whom they alone in all the 
world bowed down! It was blasphemy. It was leading the 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 403 


people astray. It would bring down a curse from Jehovah 
himself if it were not visited with the most summary punish- 
ment. And there was but one way to avoid the wrath of Him 
who had showed himself of old a jealous God. This blas- 
phemer must be forever silenced. So the chief priests and the 
Pharisees met to see what they must do. By that strange irony 
which often makes it seem as if a higher hand than human were 
shaping human things, they met just after Jesus had called 
back Lazarus from the tomb. The life of him who gave life 
they were eager to destroy. Indeed this very act of love and 
friendship was made to testify against him. It was one of the 
many proofs that by miracles he was winning the people away 
from the worship of the living God. Their wrath was fierce. 
It supplied them with resolution. Caiaphas, the high priest, 
voiced the intensity of their feeling and declared that one man 
must die for the people and the nation perish not. 

But Jesus knew that his hour had not yet come and once 
more he betook himself out of the way of harm. He withdrew 
to the town of Ephraim in northern Judea; and here and at 
Jericho and in the borders of Samaria he healed the lepers 
and the blind, he blessed little children, he read the heart of 
the generous publican Zaccheus, and for the third time he told 
his disciples that at Jerusalem he was to be put to death and 
to rise on the third day. 


404. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


II 


One of the group of Pharisees who went to the country 
beyond Jordan to warn Jesus against Herod was Zatthu. 
The Nazarene whom he had once deemed a menace to the 
nation he now regarded as its hope. Startled indeed he had 
sometimes been as he listened to Jesus’ solemn and inspired 
insistence upon oneness with the dread Jehovah. In the cham- 
bers of his soul he felt a shock when he heard these sublime 
utterances. And he heard nearly all of them; for whenever 
Jesus drew the Jews about him in Jerusalem and awed and 
angered them at once by his majestic speech, Zatthu had been 
one of the attending throng. But if he was startled by these 
unparalleled claims, it was only for a moment. Deeper and 
ever deeper sank the conviction in his mind that a greater than 
the prophets was here. 

Not for him however was immediate discipleship. The 
twelve had been chosen to walk with their Master day by day. 
The Seventy had been sent forth to gather their own harvest. 
But not all those who believed in Jesus were called to follow 
him publicly or to teach and to cast out devils in his name. 
Nicodemus held himself in readiness to do what service he 
might when the hour of need came. There were other Phari- 
sees that did the same. Zatthu did the same. He, like others 
who saw in Jesus the Redeemer of the Jewish nation, looked 
confidently to the time when he should be truly a king — yes, 
a king who should dim the glory and the greatness of Solomon. 
When that time came, he, Zatthu, would strengthen his hands. 
Till that time came he would use what power and influence he 
had to shield and safe-guard this man whose enemies daily 
grew in number and in bitterness. 

What a strange path this proud-spirited Hebrew had had 
to travel! Yet he had traveled it. What a painful circuit 
he had had to make! Yet he had made it. The path had led 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 405 


him up the heights of self-renunciation; but he had climbed 
unshrinkingly even when the way was icy and sheer. And 
beginning with an elation that had made him feel he was 
almost another Moses or Elijah, he had come round to the 
belief that he was only an erring child. To realize this had 
cost him many a pang, and many an hour of conflict when the 
old proud self called for the homage he had once received but 
which he had now to give to another who was infinitely 
worthier than he. He had conquered in the struggle, but it 
had left its marks. He looked years older than he did when he 
faced Pilate as the chosen instrument of an offended and 
avenging God — yes, and older than when he appeared again 
before the procurator as a broken and disappointed man. 
His eyes were sunken but as bright as ever. His face was 
thin. Faint lines could already be traced upon his brow. A 
gravity that was almost stern and forbidding was the settled 
expression of his face. Yet he did not bear himself as a man 
who was crushed. There was a latent energy in his walk and 
all his movements, and when he spoke, even though his words 
were measured, there was weight and decision in his tones. 
If he was of the meek who were to inherit the earth, the in- 
heritance was not to come through idle waiting. 

It might be supposed that after thus fully accepting the 
leadership of Jesus he would seek him out, own allegiance, and 
strengthen his devotion through that personal intercourse 
which is more potent far than the word spoken to the many. 
Yet he had not done so and it was his humility that had kept 
him thus aloof. The world was running after this holy and 
inspired man. The people would not let him alone and he 
could but have weary hours when he craved above all things a 
respite from the importunities of his own followers and the 
press of the multitudes who viewed him with adoration, All 
this Zatthu realized, even as he made one of those who hung 
upon his words. So he quietly waited for the time to come 


406 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


when he was manifestly called into the very presence of this 
man he was more than willing to serve. 

That time came when he and other friendly Pharisees 
learned of Herod’s plot to kill him. Of this he should be 
warned. Accordingly they crossed the Jordan and sought the 
place where they knew him to be. They found him and on 
Zatthu it fell to be their spokesman. And here was the oppor- 
tunity for him to say, “I am he whom you healed and now I 
would gladly give my.life for you.” But he did not say it. 
He knew that it was not necessary. As he stood face to face 
with Jesus, he was conscious that in some heaven-sent way 
this man who knew what was in men was reading his very soul. 
The eye that looked so searchingly into his saw his whole 
history written there. Yes, he saw it and he made it manifest 
that he saw it; for his own eye gave an answering look that 
thrilled Zatthu through and through. It said as plainly as 
words could say it: “It was not in vain that I called you from 
death to life. The blessing of Jehovah is yours.” 

So profoundly moved was Zatthu that some moments 
passed before he could command himself to speak, and those 
who had come with him wondered at his silence. But finally 
he made known his errand, only to marvel at the answer it 
called forth, even as those who listened to Jesus again and 
again found themselves wondering what strange deep import 
there was in his words. 

“Go ye and tell that fox, ‘Behold, I cast out devils and I do 
cures today and tomorrow, and the third day I shall be per- 
fected.’ ”’ 

Such was the answer to their warning message. ‘‘What 
does it mean?” they asked each other as they wended their 
way back again. None knew, but the mention of the “third 
day” gave Zatthu an uneasy feeling. He knew that more than 
once before Jesus had declared that he should be slain and 
rise on the third day. Were the words they had just heard 
another prediction that the life of Jesus was to end in defeat 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 407 


instead of triumph? Something of this kind Merari had 
seemed to see portending. What could it mean? Surely this 
man even more than Elisha could make the hosts of heaven 
smite down those who would destroy him. He could not un- 
derstand, but he would be watchful and, if need be, active. 
He was a Pharisee. He was Zatthu. Some influence he could 
exert in behalf of Jesus in case his enemies should threaten his 
very life. 

And he soon found that they did so threaten it. It was not 
very long after he and his friends had sought Jesus beyond 
the Jordan that the priests and Pharisees consulted how to 
put an end to Jesus and his teaching, and Caiaphas declared 
that one man must die to save the nation’s life. Zatthu 
straightway learned of this and sought Caiaphas to protest 
against this deliberately planned violence. 

Caiaphas readily gave ear to him. He could not but listen 
to the man who less than three years earlier had had all Jeru- 
salem under his spell. ‘True, his failure to achieve what he 
had promised had brought him into some contempt; and his 
known friendliness to the impostor who was a growing menace 
to the worship of Jehovah was noted with deep disfavor. But 
he had native force and power. He could still thrill the multi- 
tudes. He was a man to reckon with and to be heard. 

Caiaphas met him with bland civility, but their interview, 
peaceable at first, soon grew stormy and passionate. Zatthu 
began by mildly insisting that Jesus was wholly blameless in 
his life, that he won the hearts of the people by curing their 
diseases and showing them kindness, and that his words were 
a summons to purity of deed and thought. ‘To this plea 
Caiaphas replied by dwelling on Jesus’ claims to equality with 
God, even with the dread Jehovah; for such claims a true 
Hebrew patriot could only regard as blasphemies. 

“That,” rejoined Zatthu, “would depend entirely on the 
one who made the claims.” 

“Exactly,” said Caiaphas, still smiling and suavely iron- 


408 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


ical, ‘“‘and the man in this case is a mere carpenter of Naza- 
reth.” 

‘‘And Moses was a man who had to flee for safety because 
he had struck down an Egyptian.” 

The brow of Caiaphas darkened and his tones were strident 
as he answered, 

“Moses was chosen by God and of that he gave proof.” 

‘““What proof?” 

“He performed miracles.” 

“So does Jesus.” 

“Yes, by Beelzebub.” 

“fe heals the blind, the leprous and the palsied without: 
number. He calls the dead and dying back to life. Is that 
the work of Beelzebub?” 

“Why not? He does it to mislead.” 

“It is two thousand years almost since Abraham was called 
from Ur. Our Sacred Books give us a record of all that time. 
Do they tell us that Beelzebub has ever wrought such mani- 
fold good works before?” 

“It was he surely that gave the Egyptian sorcerers their 
power.” 

“And the Egyptian sorcerers turned their rods into ser- 
pents. Did they heal the sick and the blind?” 

“No, nor do I believe that Jesus really does such things. 
He is an impostor, a deceiver. He makes the people believe 
that he has powers he does not possess.” 

“Ah, then he does not do these things through Beelzebub? 
You claim now that he does not do them at all?” 

Caiaphas was furious. He had shifted his ground and had 
been taxed with doing so. He was determined at any rate to 
be consistent now. 

“No,” he exclaimed passionately, “he does not do them at 
all. He is the friend of Beelzebub and through Beelzebub he 
gets a strange unholy power over credulous minds. He makes 
them think they see things that never happen.” 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 409 


“Ah, but they do happen.” 

“TI tell you, they do not.” 

“And I can bear witness that they do.” 

‘You can bear witness that they do? What are you say- 
ing? What do you mean?” 

“T mean that when I was hurt and dying Jesus gave me 
back to life.” 

The high priest looked at Zatthu for a moment in blank 
astonishment. 'Then he became so convulsed with anger that 
he could hardly command himself to speak. But he did not 
forget the dignity of his high office, and after a few moments 
he said calmly, but with bitter irony, 

“Oh! so you too are one of the deluded ones! We should 
hardly have expected that of Zatthu — Zatthu who not long 
since was making us think he was raised up by Jehovah to 
free Israel!’ 

“TI was one of the deluded ones,” replied Zatthu, still calm 
but with a growing sternness of voice and manner. “I was so 
deluded that I thought Jesus was an impostor and I was 
chosen by Jehovah to break my people’s yoke of bondage. 
For my folly and my pride I was brought very low by Jeho- 
vah. The people would not heed me, and rightly, because 
they saw in Jesus their true deliverer. I was forsaken, and 
sheltered by thieves. At last, wounded and sick and the 
breath almost gone out of me, I was restored to life and 
strength by this same Jesus I had despised. I humbled myself 
then and Jehovah opened my eyes. I came to see that Jesus 
was Messiah. He is greater than Moses, greater than Solo- 
mon, greater than any of the prophets that heard the voice 
of God. Hehas come to redeem Israel and raise it to a glory 
of which it has never dreamed. And yet you, you and your 
brother priests to whom the nation’s highest weal has been 
entrusted, are ready to degrade your sacred office and to seek 
the death of the very man who has been sent to save us.” 


410 ZATTHU-——A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


For a moment Caiaphas was awed by this fierce denuncia- 
tion, for Zatthu spoke like an accusing prophet. But anger 
quickly resumed possession of him and loosened all re- 
straint. . 

“Yes,” he answered, his eyes blazing and his voice quiver- 
ing with passion, “and his death shall soon be brought about. 
This man Messiah! This carpenter from Nazareth, this 
friend of sinners, greater than Moses! It is impious to talk 
so. Jehovah will curse you for thus betraying his own chosen 
nation |” 

“The traitor is you! Yes, you and all the others who are 
so infamously plotting to destroy this holy man! But you 
will not succeed! You can never succeed! Jehovah will safe- 
guard him from your hands as he safe-guarded Elisha and 
Daniel long ago.” 

“Enough!” cried Caiaphas, rising in the vehemence of his 
wrath. ‘I will listen to you no longer. You are giving proof 
yourself of this man’s malign and unhallowing influence. He 
has made a devil take possession of you, or you would not so 
defame our holy men who spoke the word of Jehovah. Go! 
I will not hear you, but I can only pity you as one whom a 
demon has bereft of reason.” 

“It is my wish to go,” said Zatthu, who had also risen. “I 
see that words are useless. But look at me! look at me calmly 
and searchingly, Caiaphas, and tell me, if you can, that I bear 
the marks of one who has lost his reason. Tell me, if you can, 
that Nicodemus and other Pharisees I might name who believe 
that Jesus is a holy man, are senseless, distraught, or treach- 
erous. It is reverence that rules in our hearts, reverence for 
what is good and pure. It is hatred that rules in yours, a 
bitter, malignant hatred that blinds your eyes and turns 
your hands to evil. Jehovah judge between me and you! 
Yes, Jehovah, who is like a refiner’s fire and like fullers’ soap! 
He will come to judge, and who shall abide the day of his 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 411 


coming? You? You who are plotting to slay an innocent 
man?” 

BEV GS ithe. 

Zatthu gazed at him searchingly for a moment. Then he 
said sorrowfully, 

“Tt is you that are to be pitied,” and went away. 


412 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


III 


In telling Caiaphas that he and his party could not take 
the life of Jesus, Zatthu had been sincere. The fact remained 
however that these enemies would stop at nothing in com- 
passing their end. Mere prudence therefore seemed to require 
that Jesus should be protected in every possible way. So 
thinking, Zatthu determined to go to Capernaum and ask 
Marcus to intercede for him. 

As he made the journey he could not help commenting on 
the extraordinary change the course of events had wrought 
in his own feeling and conduct. Less than three years before 
he had been taken before Pilate as a conspirator against the 
Roman power. Now he was about to ask that same power to 
prevent his countrymen from doing a violent and shameful 
deed. How very strange! These tyrannical and brutal Ro- 
mans, if he could carry out his purpose, were to be Jehovah’s 
instrument to prevent the priests of his own chosen people 
from staining their hands with guilt. As he thought it all 
over he was almost impelled to turn back to Jerusalem, his 
errand seemed so preposterous. But did not Jehovah use the 
very Egyptians whom he afterwards punished to bring Jacob 
and his sons into Egypt? Verily the ways of the Most High 
were beyond the comprehension of men. Zatthu was sure that 
Jesus was Jehovah’s servant and needed protection. He saw 
but one way to protect him and so he kept on his way till he 
reached Capernaum. 

He had not sought Marcus before since he had talked with 


him in Cesarea. The centurion received him very cordially, 


made it plain that he was glad to renew the acquaintance and 


lent a willing ear to his plea. But when he had heard Zatthu’s| 


story to the end he said very positively that he could take no 
such action as Zatthu wished. 
“The whole matter is entirely outside the scope of my power 


ES 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 413 


and influence,” he declared. “It cannot be murder or crime 
that your countrymen, through their own priests, are plot- 
ting. What they attempt will surely be by process of law.” 

“Law! Law!” said Zatthu reflectively. “And will that 
mean justice? As you have watched trials and courts have 
you gained respect for them?” 

“Yes, much. They err. So do men err all the time in all 
the various things they do. But these same erring men took 
a long step forward when they began to accuse one thought 
guilty and try him instead of acting on mere impulse and 
suspicion.” 

“But of what use is a trial if those that judge have made 
up their mind beforehand that the accused ts guilty and are 
determined to condemn him?” 

“Of little use in that case, I admit.” 

“And that is what will happen if Jesus is arrested and 
tried.” 

“That will depend upon who his judges are.” 

“Who will they be?” 

“Tt is impossible to say. I do not know before what court 
he would be brought. Your own countrymen will accuse him 
and try him. But your country is not free as you Hebrews 
all long to see it. The final judgment might be given by 
Herod or it might be given by. Pilate.” 

“Supposing it were Pilate that gave it, could not you make 
him see that Jesus is upright and pure and ought to go free?” 

“No,” said Marcus, after a little reflection, “I could not do 
that. When I went to him to intercede for you and Shobek, 
I gave him my opinion of Jesus. I told him I believed Jesus 
to be blameless and no menace to the Roman power. Further 
than that I cannot go.” 

“Was it not your influence that made him pardon Shobek 
and me?” 

“Partly. Yet I could have done nothing for you had you 
not so fortunately fought for Roman soldiers against a band 


414. ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


of thieves. Because you did that, the good word I said for 
you sank deep into Pilate’s mind. But if I have any influence 
with him, it is because I have never been officious and meddle- 
some. If I had been constantly trying to force my views upon 
him just because my father is the prefect of Rome, I should 
only have turned him against me.” 

“Is he a Just man?” 

“Judge him by his own actions as governor of this country. 
How do you interpret them?” 

“That even when viewed most favorably they show that 
he can be harsh and cruel.” 

“You have a right to view them so. Yet I can assure you 
that he has no love of cruelty. He is sometimes stern. Justice 
has often to be that. But like every true Roman he has a 
deep respect for justice, and he would not willingly do an 
unjust or a merciless deed. He found it a little hard to think 
he ought to pardon you and Shobek, but in the end he took 
real pleasure in doing it.” 

“Could he be just if it cost him the goodwill of those he 
wished to please?” 

“Frankly, I doubt that. Pilate is at heart rather a timid 
man.” 

“Yet you will not try to give him strength?” 

“No. For the reasons I have named.” 

“A very wonderful and holy life may be at stake.” 

“But if Jesus has been sent by Jehovah, why will he not 
have the protection of Jehovah, like your blameless men and 
prophets of long ago?” 

“Tt is many hundfed years since the power of Jehovah has 
been so revealed.” 

“Yet are you not hoping that it will be again revealed and 
that through its workings Jesus will be lifted into an unheard 
of greatness?” 

“Y cannot deny that that is my ardent hope.” 

“You even think, do you not, that not by the sword and 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 415 


pitched battle but by miracles, the hosts who oppose Jesus 
will be annihilated?” 

“Yes, I do think exactly that. Jesus does not resist his 
enemies, he evades them. With his own hand he would hardly 
use the sword. His temper and his counsels are mild. Yet 
he sometimes rebukes sin in a strain of grandeur and speaks 
of coming woe and tribulation as one might who was himself 
to bring about mighty convulsions and stormy times.” 

“Tf he has been sent by Jehovah to work such changes, he 
must surely be under the keeping of Jehovah.” 

“It would seem so. You are perhaps right and you, a 
Roman, might well tax me with a lack of faith in the God I 
have worshipped since I was a child. But remember, I have 
come directly from the places where his enemies are bitter, 
resolute and active. My very anxiety makes me see danger 
and fills me with uneasiness. I should feel that Israel’s last 
hope was gone should Jesus now come to his death.” 

“Perhaps his death would only be the beginning of the good 
he was sent to accomplish.” 

“That is a strange thought.” 

“Strange, yet almost justified by your own prophets as I 
have read them.” 

“Yes, and Merari seems sometimes to have the same vision 
of what is to be. Yet I cannot see things so. Moses and 
Joshua and David and Elijah wrought what they did for 
Israel through their lives and not through their deaths. But 
Jehovah’s will be done. I cannot really believe that the life 
of Jesus is to be’ sacrificed before he accomplishes that will. 
And [I shall presently go back to Jerusalem to serve him in 
any way I can. That I am sure is what Jehovah wishes of 
me. I have failed myself, but Jesus cannot fail.” 

“No,” said Marcus, as they parted. “That pure and 
blameless life surely cannot fail to do that for which it was 
brought into the world.” 


416 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


IV 


Slowly and thoughtfully Zatthu went from his interview 
with Marcus toward the house of Aristarchus. How would 
these staunch, tried friends receive him? 'They might well 
show coolness, for he had not fulfilled his promise that he 
would come to them from time to time. Not once had he been 
near them since the brief visit he had made directly after being 
pardoned by Pilate. Could he make them feel that he appre- 
ciated their unvarying kindness in the face of this seeming 
indifference? 

Before going to the house itself he sought the olive tree that 
commanded the waters of Gennesaret. Here he half hoped 
that he should find the little maid with whom he had such 
a pleasant and, it might be said, such an illuminating talk. 
Perhaps she was no longer little. Nearly a year had passed 
since she had so suddenly revealed herself to him under the 
olive, and maids grow fast beneath the warm oriental skies. 
He would be sorry to find her taller and more mature, for her 
artlessness had been her charm. But the olive was sheltering 
no one, so after sitting at its foot for a while and thinking 
over all the stirring and deep experiences that had come to 
him since he first entered Capernaum, he directed his steps to 
the house. 

The greeting that Aristarchus gave him roused in him a 
feeling of chagrin. Not a trace of resentment, no charges of 
neglect or ingratitude; nothing but unstinted hospitality and 
warm affection. Such friendliness he had not earned. 

“You must have quite a story to tell,” said the Greek after 
he had expressed his delight in seeing him again. “My wife 
and daughter will want to hear all that you have seen and 
done — yes, and Shobek too. I will send word to them all to 
come into the atrium and you shall meet them and talk to 
them there.” 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 417 


In the atrium they gathered and there Zatthu again found 
friendly eyes beaming upon him and heard words of heartiest 
welcome. And yet he missed something that he found his 
heart was craving yet had no right to ask for or expect. 
Xenodice was unfeignedly cordial though she did remind him 
of the months that had passed since they had seen him; Sho- 
bek’s joy was unbounded; but Thisoa—there was that in 
her manner that made him think of a flower closing its petals 
in spite of her kindly tones and her frank and friendly gaze. 
In that moment he seemed to see, as through curtains parted 
for a moment, that something in a woman’s soul that can 
never be expressed in words. 

“You make me ashamed,” he said, after the greetings had 
been interchanged. “I have not kept my promise. I have let 
month after month go by without coming near you. And yet 
you receive me with the same warm-hearted generosity that 
you showed me when I was a condemned and hunted man. 

“Yes, you make me ashamed, much more ashamed than I 
should be if you showered me with the reproaches I have 
merited. But it is not ingratitude and it is not indifference 
that has kept me away. When I was here almost a year ago 
and told you I would come and report my doings to you now 
and then, I honestly meant to do so. I wanted to do so, for 
your kindness has made this home the sweetest spot to me 
upon the earth. 

“But I am a Hebrew and you cannot understand all that 
that means. I have told you that before and I must tell it to 
you now again. My people has the passion to be free. What 
a deep, burning, aching passion it is, you cannot know. 
Greece has had her day of glory. A great and noble day it 
was, but it ended and your countrymen do not look for it 
again. ‘They live on under Roman rule and never even dream 
of sweeping it aside. And so too have we Hebrews had our 
day of glory. But our sun set only to rise again. We have 
the promise that it shall rise again and with a splendor that 


418 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


the world has never known. And I have been watching for 
that sun to rise. As you know, I was deluded into believing 
that I, myself, was the herald of this wonderful bright-flaming 
dawn. I was cured of my folly. I was humbled. I was sick 
with self-reproach and a sense of shame. ‘Those were the 
feelings that were still strongest in me when I parted from you 
ten long months ago. 

“But even then the light was beginning to scatter the clouds 
that darkened my sky. That light, as you well know, came 
from the man who raised me from death to life, even from 
Jesus of Nazareth. And the light grew brighter and brighter 
as the days passed by. It banished every cloud. It flooded 
my very soul. Much of this time I have been following the 
steps of Jesus, I have been listening to his speech, I have been 
noting the deeds he did and measuring both words and deeds 
with those of our leaders and prophets of the ancient days. 
Doing this, I have seemed to look into this man’s soul, and 
surely there never was a soul more fit to be Jehovah’s dwell- 
ing-place. Once as I lay awake at night there flashed into 
my mind a verse from one of our Psalms: ‘I will not give sleep 
to mine eyes or slumber to mine eyelids till I find a place for 
Jehovah, an habitation for the mighty God of Jacob.’ And 
with an awed and startled feeling I thought to myself that 
this man Jesus had been preparing for the mighty Jehovah 
even such an habitation. And He ts dwelling there, yes He, 
the God of Jacob, is abiding there as nowhere else on all the 
earth. 

“Tf He dwells there it is to give light to the world. The 
light is coming. Oh, I feel that it is coming, and for it I have 
been watching and am watching still, even as one who has sat 
in a desert all through a black and stormy night and sighed 
for the morning. My soul is on fire with this fierce passionate 
longing. I carry it into my sleep. If I wake I find it burning 
within me. When daylight comes, it rules me and drives out 
all other thoughts. Only think of it! After hundreds of 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 419 


years Jerusalem will be the mistress of all the world and all 
the nations shall flock to her and behold her glory. And bet- 
ter than all, the idols that are everywhere so blindly wor- 
shipped shall be thrown down and every knee shall bow to the 
mighty Jehovah. 

“But not easily shall all this come to pass. Jesus has ene- 
mies. The very ones who should lift him into power and honor 
are his bitterest foes. As you doubtless know, he has for some 
time been teaching and healing in and about Jerusalem; and 
there the priests and Pharisees——to my shame I say it — 
have turned against him. Under the lead of Caiaphas, the 
high priest, they are seeking to destroy him. Vainly have I 
tried to turn Caiaphas from this wicked purpose. My words 
only roused him to wrath. So I have been to Marcus to beg 
his intercession. I have, indeed, just come from him. But 
he tells me he is powerless to interfere. So Jesus must find 
his protection in what support can be given him by his own 
disciples and by the many who like myself would give our lives 
for him at any time. 

“But I must not forget that you are Greeks and cannot 
share this deep passion of my people to see Jerusalem the mis- 
tress of the world. The strength of my feelings has made me 
talk too long. Forgive me.” 

“You never talk too long,” said Aristarchus. “Never have 
you failed to interest us profoundly when you have told us 
either of your experiences or of your hopes. We thoroughly 
respect your feeling even if we cannot share it — though per- 
haps we share it more fully than you realize. But while I 
should hate to chill your fervent patriotism, I cannot help 
asking you whether your people can rise to a position of 
power and greatness when they are so divided. How can 
Jesus unite them and make them into a mighty nation when 
some of them would die for him while those who ought to be 
his staunchest allies are eager to put him out of the way?” 

“A natural query; but such has been our history. From 


420 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


the time when Moses led my people out of Egypt they have 
been rebellious and easily moved to worship strange gods. 
Yet such as they are, Jehovah chose them to be his people. 
By signs and wonders He can turn them from dissension and 
faithlessness to faith, even as He did by thunder and lightning 
and thick cloud at Sinai. In a moment He could so declare 
Himself that the very ones who have scorned Jesus and pro- 
nounced him a blasphemer would follow in his train and shout 
Hosanna.” 

“May your hopes come true. But can you not absent your- 
self from Judea for a time and linger with us long enough to 
let us really know you again I should be grieved if you still 
refused my hospitality.” 

“For a few days I will tarry with you, if you wishit. Jesus 
is just now shunning the places where his enemies are laying 
snares for him. He has left Jerusalem and will not return 
there, I feel sure, till the time of the Feast of the Passover. 
Then things of mighty moment may be said and done. I must 
be there before the Feast takes place.” 

A long conversation followed, in the course of which Zatthu 
was questioned about all the scenes and happenings that had 
been of peculiar interest during the time that he had spent 
in Judea. He answered willingly and the old relation of 
friendly, confidential intercourse was again to a large degree 
established. 

To a large degree— yet Thisoa was not what she had been 
in those early days of their acquaintance. She had then been 
the sympathetic friend and adviser, listening to Zatthu’s 
plans, sharing his enthusiasm and sometimes giving him sage 
counsel or needed encouragement. Now she was deeply inter- 
ested in all that he had to say; his unreserved belief in Jesus 
drew a warm response from her; the plots of Caiaphas and 
the priestly party filled her too with manifest concern. But 
the glowing youthful ardor and the animation that was so 
unfailing and so contagious had disappeared. There was 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 421 


now underneath every expression of sympathy and feeling a 
deep womanly reserve. The wit and the sparkle that had 
given a wondrous charm to her presence were quite gone. 

What was the meaning of the change, Zatthu could not help 
wondering when he found himself alone. Yet if he raised the 
question his own heart told him how to answer it. It told him 
too that, considering the real depth of his own feeling, he had 
done well in absenting himself so long after hearing little 
Naomi’s revelations under the olive tree. 


422 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


V 


Still Zatthu did not make it his one purpose to declare to 
Thisoa how fully she had won his heart. It was in part his 
very self-reproach that prevented him from doing so. To 
have cherished so strong a feeling and to have neither made it 
known nor even shown himself in person through ten long 
months could but seem in Thisoa’s eyes an almost unforgiv- 
able wrong. So at any rate he reasoned. But then, does any 
man realize how much a woman is ready to forgive if she has 
the positive assurance that she is loved? 

Thinking as he did, Zatthu occupied himself for two or 
three days in visiting his old-time acquaintances in Caper- 
naum and learning anew their attitude toward the man who 
had become the one commanding figure in Palestine. So he 
went about among the very Pharisees to whom two years 
before he had presented his own claims to leadership, and 
sought how far they had come to see, not in him but in Jesus, 
the hope of the Hebrew nation. 

It was as an inquirer, not as a proselyte, that he went. He 
deemed it best to control his ardent spirit of discipleship. To 
display it might only bring jeers and scoffs. So he made his 
quest in patience — and with almost no satisfaction. A very 
few of the Pharisees, unwilling though they were to bring 
odium on themselves by asserting their views freely and em- 
phatically, were yet ready to see in Jesus the promised Mes- 
siah. Most of them however viewed him with the scorn that 
he had kindled in their own class at Jerusalem. 

At the end of the third day of this discouraging quest. Zat- 
thu went back to the house of Aristarchus in a sober mood. 
He was not disheartened. As he had told the household of 
Aristarchus, Jehovah could by a wondrous revelation of his 
own spirit make it plain that Jesus was sent by Him and make 
his very enemies his staunchest followers. But still it was dis- 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 423 


quieting to see those who should be the leaders at this great 
time shut their eyes so determinedly to the light. 

So feeling he entered the house, made his way into the 
atrium and found Thisoa there as he had more than once 
found her in those old days of their free and friendly inter- 
course. With the same smile that had given him hope and 
courage then when he was himself disconsolate, she now wel- 
comed him. He seated himself by her side and with an answer- 
ing smile began, 

“It is a very pleasant feeling that comes to me as I find 
you sitting here. I can but think of those days when your 
father first took me in and when I came back here to get 
courage and sympathy from you after sounding the minds of 
my own people.” 

The smile vanished from Thisoa’s face. With deep gravity 
she said, 

“It seems strange that I was more ready even than many 
of your nation to believe in you and the call you felt you had 
from the Most High — yet so it was.” 

“TY wonder why it was.” 

Thisoa still looked grave, but did not meet his eye, and did 
not speak. 

“Did my enthusiasm make you believe in me?” 

“T certainly did not doubt that it was genuine.” 

“Have you ever doubted it?” 

**No, never.” 

“Yet you had to see that it was mistaken.” 

“Ves, I think I saw it a good while before you did.” 

“What made you see it?” 

“Jesus of Nazareth. I had to believe that he was truly 
sent by your Jehovah. Then I knew that your call was not 
from above.” 

“In other words you knew that I was misguided, led astray 
by my own vanity, filled with a foolish and selfish ambition to 


424 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


be as great a leader as the old time prophets and saviors of 
my nation.” 

“Oh, not so! not so! Your ambition was not a selfish one. 
It was generous and noble.” 

“It is generous in you to think so. But I have learned to 
see myself as I am, and the light has come to me, as it came 
to you, from Jesus of Nazarath.” 

“Is he to give light to all the world?” 

“Yes, if the world will receive it. But it is not a light that 
it is altogether pleasant to receive. It is inflaming the priests 
and the Pharisees at Jerusalem with wrath and hatred. I re- 
sisted it for a long time, as you know.” 

“Yes, and I helped you to do so, for I too was blind then. 
I told you that Jesus was but for a day, while you were to 
break the Roman yoke and give your country a commanding 
place among the nations of the world. I have sometimes been 
ashamed that I helped to mislead you.” 

“It had to be. My pride was strong. It made me vain and 
presumptuous. It had to be broken.” 

Here Zatthu stopped as if not knowing what to say next, 
while Thisoa sat motionless and waited for him to go on. 
Presently he continued, speaking slowly and not trying to 
catch Thisoa’s eye. 

‘But it has been broken, thoroughly and completely broken. 
I am a humbled man and a much changed one. My old am- 
bition is gone; my ways of thinking are all changed.” 

Again there were a few moments of silence. Zatthu seemed 
to be painfully groping his way and Thisoa, sympathizing 
much, felt deeply that she must not even try to help him. He 
was humiliating himself, but in his very humiliation he was 
deepening her regard. Finding words again after a time, 
he said, 

“Believing myself raised up to free my people, I kept that 
aim single and undivided in my heart. I let but one thought, 
one affection reign there—love of my bruised and bleeding 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 425 


country. If a man’s deep native yearnings for a home and 
all that makes a home ever rose in me, I stifled them. In- 
stantly, utterly I stifled them lest they should weaken and 
betray my cherished purpose. 

“But they were sometimes felt, for I am but a man; and 
once they were stirred so powerfully in me that I became 
alarmed. It was just before I had those last unhappy experi- 
ences that broke me down and would have brought about my 
death if it had not been for you. 

*““Shobek, Kelita and myself were to pass the night in a 
shepherd’s hut on a mountain side near Safed. After night- 
fall I went alone to the top of the mountain and there I caught 
the gleam of Gennesaret in the distance, and instantly there 
arose in me a mighty longing for your home— yes, and for 
you. The memory of what passed between us in this very 
spot rushed in upon me like a flood. What strength you then 
put into my heart! What a rich full sympathy you gave to 
me and the cause I then thought holy! Yes, but I still 
thought it was holy, and that conviction gave me a bitter 
hour. It made me feel my longing for you was a sin against 
Jehovah; and so, wearily and painfully, I put it away. To 
my country and my country’s God belonged my utter abso- 
lute devotion. 

“But soon I was broken, betrayed, hurt and dying. 
Through your appeal to Jesus of Nazareth I was brought 
from death to life, and ever since I have known deep in my 
heart that I belonged to you. But I have belonged to Jesus 
also. I have had to seek him out and follow him and study 
him to know myself. And since I have looked into his eyes 
and heard his voice, I have come to know myself. And it is 
not a self that I am proud of. That I have said already. I 
say it again with a deep sense of shame. I, vain, misguided, 
elated by false ambition, scoffed at Jesus of Nazareth and 
set myself above him. Now I know him to be holy and I am 
not worthy to be even the least among his followers. Yes, 


426 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


Thisoa, I am broken in spirit and all unworthy; but I am 
yours if you wish me to belong to you— yes, always and 
eternally yours.” 

He ceased and with throbbing heart waited for an answer ; 
but no answer came. He looked ardently at the woman whose 
very presence thrilled him, but no answering gaze met his own. 
Silent and with eyes steadily downcast Thisoa sat motionless 
and betrayed no sign of feeling. He had himself to break the 
silence which every moment smote his heart with a deeper 
pain. 

“'Thisoa,” he exclaimed at last humbly and sorrowfully, 
“has my pleading been allin vain? I can but feel that it has. 
Your silence tells me so. But let me hear it from your own 
lips. Do not be afraid of hurting me. I see I was wrong in 
offering you such a poor and broken life. You deserve some- 
thing better, infinitely better. Do not hesitate to tell me that 
ITerred. I will put away my grief, bless Jehovah, that He has 
let me know you, and hope that He will give you the happi- 
ness your noble generous heart deserves.” 

But it was no unresponsive look that Thisoa then gave him. 
Clasping his hand and gazing unshrinkingly upon him while 
her eyes filled with tears, she said softly, 

“Do you not know why I could not answer you at once?” 

“No, Thisoa. ‘Tell me why.” 

“It was because my feeling was so deep. I did not know 
how to express it. And even now I do not know.” 

“Do not try, Thisoa. I understand. Words could not 
tell me more.” 

Thisoa heaved a long sigh of deep full satisfaction, again 
cast her eyes down, and with hands tightly clasped the two 
sat silent and contented for a while. It was Thisoa who first 
spoke again. 

“No,” she said, “words are not really necessary, and yet 
there is much to say. Yes, very much to say. For I cannot 
have you think it is a poor and broken life you give me. It is 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 427 


its very poverty —if it is right to use such a word — that 
makes it worthy in my eyes. You are not broken, Zatthu. 
You are humbled. Your pride has been broken. But from 
the wreck and ruin of a mistaken though a generous ambition, 
you have risen to be the truest and the noblest man in all 
the world.” 

“No, no, Thisoa! You must not say that. You must not 
think it. Jesus of Nazareth is so holy, so high above me and 
above us all, that I bow before him and know myself to be but 
as the very dust.” 

“It is because you so bow yourself that I love and honor 
you. Ah, how greatly I admired and honored you when you 
felt yourself to be your nation’s hope and were eager to make 
her free. But you failed. Through this very Jesus of Naza- 
reth you failed, for he had won the people’s hearts and they 
were shut to you. And then, instead of burning with wrath 
against this holy august figure who had been the means of 
humbling you, you saw in him the light that you had fervently 
believed was to shine upon Juda through you. And so you 
abased yourself and followed him.” 

“How else could I have done? He healed me. He raised 
me from death to life.” 

“You could not have done else, for you are Zatthu, my own 
Zatthu, in whose love I glory and whom [I love with all my 
heart and will follow to the end of the world. No, you could 
do nothing else, for you are true, true, true. You were true 
to your cause, while you thought it was Jehovah’s. You are 
true now to Jesus of Nazareth and you will be true to him, 
whatever storms may break upon his head. It is such truth | 
that wins a woman’s heart. You have won mine, Zatthu. It 
is all yours. It is always and eternally yours, even as you 
said that yours was mine.” 

It was Zatthu now who was too deeply moved to speak. So 
silence again fell upon the two. The heart of each was full 
of an exquisite happiness that was too deep for words. 


428 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“Yes,” said Zatthu after a while, “it was Jesus of Nazareth 
who defeated my ambition; it was he who healed me; it is he 
who now has my devotion — and he it is who has really given 
us to each other. Had he not come, I might now be leading 
my countrymen against the Roman legions, my thought 
wholly upon conquest, and far, far away from you. But 
Jesus came. He has made everything so different. He has 
brought us together; we owe our happiness to him; we must 
think of him even before ourselves.” 

“Tt is even so that I have been thinking of him, Zatthu. I 
have thought of him in that way ever since I looked into his 
eyes upon the mountain top and felt his hand upon my head.” 

‘And he needs me even now. I am sure heneeds me. Those 
storms you spoke of are about to break. I must go to Jerusa- 
lem and thwart his enemies. You would not have me stay?” 

“No, Zatthu. You must go and stand at his side. Our 
happiness can wait.” 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 429 


VI 


“T did not suppose I was acquiring a gardener and a son- 
in-law when you saved me from the robbers. If the hunchback 
had lived, no doubt I should have adopted him, for he was 
very apt at binding up a wound. Well, Jehovah’s will be 
done. That is the way you look at it, and I acquiesce.” 

Such was Aristarchus’ reply when Zatthu told him what 
had passed between Thisoa and himself and earnestly craved 
the sanction of the kindly Greek. 

“But I hope you can do more than acquiesce. I hope you 
can approve with all your heart even though I am not of your 
land and blood.” 

“Hope! Hope! That is a strange word to come from the 
mouth of a countryman of Moses and Solomon. You lordly 
people think you are superior to all the dwellers on the earth. 
If your pride had not been shattered, you would have come 
to me in a condescending mood and informed me of the vast 
favor you were conferring upon me instead of hoping for my 
approval. But of course I approve. Are you not my guest- 
friend? Did you not save my life? There is not a man living 
to whom I would more gladly have seen my daughter give her 
heart. She has been the light of my home. Her mother and I 
shall miss her sorely. But we want her happiness above all 
things, and that you will make her happy I have not the 
shadow of a doubt.” 

“And your wife, you think, will share your own generous 
confidence?” 

“TY am sure of it. Sheis well trained. That spirited girl of 
mine has had her own way with both of us ever since she was 
old enough to call us Father and Mother. Wasn’t that made 
plain to you when she hid you under the rose bushes?” 

Zatthu smiled and admitted that Thisoa’s will seemed 
always to make itself felt in the household. ‘‘But then,” he 


430 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


added slyly, “it is because it is such a wise will that it is 
heeded.” 

“To be sure. We discovered that before she was three 
years old and I am glad you have found it out. It will make 
life easier for you. But my wife shall speak for herself. I 
will conduct you to her.” 

Xenodice’s approval was as hearty and unreserved as that 
of her husband, and the pang that the thought of the inevi- 
table parting gave her was not revealed. Of course she was 
not surprised when Zatthu was brought before her; nor was 
she surprised when Thisoa gave her her full confidence im- 
mediately after the two lovers had revealed their hearts to 
each other. The mother had long since read her daughter’s 
secret. She had read, but she had kept her own counsel; for 
Thisoa had never spoken of her deep emotion even though she 
realized that her mother understood. That the emotion 
would ever be gratified, Xenodice had gravely doubted; for 
the strange vicissitudes through which Zatthu had renounced 
his own ambition and beccme a humble believer in Jesus of 
Nazareth, she had not been able to foresee. Nor would she 
have seen a wholly admirable husband for her daughter in 
Zatthu, the proud Pharisee, Zatthu, the zealous champion of 
Hebrew ritual, Zatthu, the defiant leader of a puny nation 
against the invincible might of Rome. But this chastened 
man who had so deeply humbled himself had become exalted in 
her eyes. She had admired him when he had been the fiery 

enthusiast; she now viewed him with a warmer and a more 
profound regard. 

“But must you really leave us now?” she asked when she 
had made Zatthu realize the warmth of her feeling for him. 
“You are making Thisoa so happy that I am sorry indeed to 
have you go.” 

“Yes, I must go. The future has long happy days for us. 
But Jesus calls me now.” 

‘And he calls me too,” said Aristarchus. “I shall go with 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 431 


you to Jerusalem and take Shobek with me. Busy man that 
I am, I have thought first of my own concerns and have never 
sought this carpenter’s son who has stirred all Judea and 
brought upen himself the hatred of its bigoted priests. I 
know how bigoted they are. I believe he is in danger from 
them.” | 

“But can you protect him?” inquired Zatthu. 

“No, and I have not thought of trying. It would be pre- 
sumptuous in me to do so. I simply go to see him, for his end 
may be near. Marcus, not I, must give him protection.” 

“TI have urged Marcus to do so, but he refuses. He says 
his power and influence do not extend so far. Nor is he ready 
to believe that the life of Jesus is really threatened.” 

“Marcus always thinks prudently and wisely. Very likely 
he is right. But, right or wrong, I believe he ought to be in 
Jerusalem and see what may take place. I will go now and 
invite him to accompany us.” 

Very soon Aristarchus brought back word that the cen- 
turion had readily consented to go with them; and the follow- 
ing morning they all set forth for Jerusalem. 


432 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


VII 


It was ten days before the Feast of the Passover that the 
four—for Shobek was one of the company as Aristarchus 
had said he should be—started for King David’s city. 
Anxiety reigned straightway in the homes they left behind 
them. 

It was the anxiety of apprehension, which is always hard 
to bear; and it was most keenly felt by Thisoa. That any 
disaster could befall Marcus or Aristarchus was not to be 
supposed; but Thisoa could not help wondering whether 
Zatthu might not be drawn into defending Jesus against 
armed assault and shedding his blood for him. That he 
would do this should the need arise, she did not for a moment 
doubt. 

Would the need arise? Again and again she visited Naa- 
rah to consider with her this disturbing question. All the 
more frequently and eagerly she went because of the deeply 
affectionate greeting her new-found happiness was sure to 
call forth from this sympathizing friend. But Naarah was 
as powerless as Thisoa to pierce the future’s veil. 

“T am no prophetess,” she said to her visitant one day. 
“My heart tells me that great things are even now happening 
at Jerusalem; but what they are, I know no more than you.” 

“But you are a Hebrew. You have lived from childhood 
in the Hebrew tradition. Does that say nothing to you?” 

“YT wish it did, dear Thisoa,” answered Naarah, smiling 
faintly. “I can read your heart and I know what you want 
me to say. But really I have little idea whether the followers 
of Jesus will take up arms and whether Zatthu will be one of 
them.” 

“What do you think, Naarah?” 

“What do you yourself think, bearing in mind all that 
Mary told us about her son?” 





PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 433 


“That around him there could never be the awfulness of 
battle, men killing each other in mad rage, the earth reddened 
with their blood, the air filled with shouts of agony and hate 
— yes, that is what I think.” 

‘And that is what I think too, Thisoa.” 

“But what, then, will save Jesus from his enemies ?”’ 

“Jehovah, who saved Moses and Elisha and Daniel long 
ago.” 

“By sword and flame? By flood? By an angel of Death?” 

“TY do not know. But before the mountains were brought 
forth; before He had formed the earth and the world; even 
from everlasting to everlasting He is God.” 

“And Jesus was sent by Him; so Jesus must be under his 
protection. Yes, it would seem as if that must be our hope, 
our only hope.” 

But the hope was not sure enough to quiet Thisoa’s dread. 
To her friend Naomi she therefore went one day to see if she 
could gain help from the child’s trusting spirit. And trusting 
indeed she found it. Naomi was still a child in the simplicity 
of her faith. 

“But who could wish to hurt Jesus?” she asked when Thisoa 
told her the fears that preyed upon her heart. ‘He is so kind 
he would make his enemies love him.” 

“Was not David kind to King Saul? And yet Saul tried 
to kill him.” 

“But it was not Saul that wanted to do that. It was an 
evil spirit that was in him.” 

“T am afraid a great many men have evil spirits in them 
that make them do wicked things.” 

“But Jesus can cast all the evil spirits out. Isn’t that one 
of the things he came to do?” 

“T believe it is, dear Naomi. Perhaps he will do it. But 
I fear it will take a great deal longer than you think.” 

It was in a wondering mood that Thisoa went away from 
her little friend. Had she learned another lesson from this 


4384 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


child’s unquestioning trust? Had Naomi better than her 
elders divined why Jesus had come into the world? <A healer 
of the body, was he even more a healer of the soul? More and 
more as the years passed would he drive evil out of the hearts 
of men? A mighty question. Only Jehovah, she thought, 
could surely answer it. Only Jehovah, for Thisoa had come 
to believe as devoutly as Zatthu and Naarah and Marcus in 
the God of Israel. 

Sooner than she had. dared to hope word came back from 
Jerusalem, and it was her father that brought it. The day 
before the Passover he unexpectedly appeared. Thisoa flew 
to meet him as soon as she learned he was in the house, and 
asked eagerly, 

‘“‘What news do you bring, dear father? Is it good or 
bad?” 

Aristarchus looked at her with a quizzical smile as he re- 
plied, 

“T left Zatthu safe and well. So far the news is good. As 
to the rest, let us go to your mother and then I will tell my 
story.” 

But Aristarchus was slow to begin when the three were 
seated together and Thisoa had to draw him out by a ques- 
tion. 

‘“Have you any news that is not good, father dear? You 
said Zatthu was safe and well. What of Jesus?” 

“What of Jesus? That is a question I find it hard to 
answer. It is a question all the people in this Hebrew land 
are asking now and they are answering it in many, many 
ways. I can say that no ill had come to him when I left 
Jerusalem; but beyond that I can make no answer that could 
give you any deep and full satisfaction. What I have seen 
and heard has impressed me deeply; but I am not a man of 
words. So I will tell my story in plain and simple speech and 
you must make of it what you can. 

“On our way to Jerusalem we fell in with a few country- 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 435 


men of mine and from that time on I kept company with them. 
Shobek was with me, but I let Marcus and Zatthu go their 
own ways. 

“These Greeks, some of whom I already knew, were, like 
Marcus, of the Hebrew faith and they were journeying to 
Jerusalem to worship at the Passover. But that was not 
their only purpose. Like me they were anxious to see Jesus. 

“Reaching Jerusalem the sixth day before the Passover we 
found he was at Bethany near by. It was there that he was 
said to have given life to his friend Lazarus after he had lain 
in the sepulchre four days. This was done only a short time 
since and the crowds were flocking to Bethany, quite as much 
to see this man who had been raised from the dead as to get 
sight of Jesus himself. Indeed, so many were coming to be- 
heve in Jesus because of this astonishing thing he was said to 
have done, that the priests, so we were told, were tempted to 
put Lazarus to death that he might not be a living witness to 
Jesus’ miraculous power. 

“To Bethany we did not go. My countrymen and I 
agreed that to be the object of so many curious eyes might 
not be altogether pleasant to Lazarus. Our one object was 
to see Jesus himself and we were sure that he would soon 
appear in Jerusalem. But we fell in with a man who went to 
Bethany and he told us of a supper that was served in the 
house of Lazarus to Jesus and other guests. To this house 
Jesus has often resorted for rest and quiet, and Lazarus’ two 
sisters, Martha and Mary, have ministered to him. At this 
supper they were, as might be expected, present and Martha 
looked to the needs of those who ate and drank. But Mary 
showed the depth of her affection, of her devotion I might 
say, by kneeling at Jesus’ feet while he sat at the table, anoint- 
ing them with a very costly ointment that filled the room 
with its fragrance, and wiping them with her hair. A waste, 
protested one of Jesus’ disciples, for this omtment should have 
been sold and the money given to the poor. ‘Let her alone,’ 


436 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


was Jesus’ answer, ‘against the day of my burial hath she 
done this.’ 

“The next day Jesus came to Jerusalem. As soon as this 
was known, crowds of those who believed in him seized palm 
branches and went to meet him, crying: ‘Hosanna! Blessed 
is the King of Israel that cometh in the name of Jehovah.’ 

“It was thus that he entered the city, like a king with 
adoring subjects all around him though he was mounted on 
an ass’s colt. Little chance there seemed for myself and my 
fellow Greeks to get near him; but one of our number knew 
Philip of Bethsaida who is of the twelve immediate and devoted 
followers of Jesus. When we said to him that we would see 
Jesus, he made known our wish to Jesus himself. The crowd 
was parted and we stood in the presence of the man whom it 
was the one deep desire of our hearts to see. 

“Just for an instant he gazed at us and in that instant I 
felt that he read our minds. We had come to measure him. 
He knew it and the words that he spoke were an answer to the 
request he saw written on our hearts. Wonderful words they 
were, but I could not repeat them. Even if I could remember 
them they would be meaningless coming from my mouth. In 
them the man revealed himself, the greatness of his spirit, the 
travail of his soul, the consciousness of his own power to lead 
men and uplift them. He ended by raising his eyes upward 
and crying: ‘Father, glorify Thy name.’ 

“And this prayer was on the instant answered, for from 
above there came a voice. Thunder, some called it; but it 
was a voice, a voice that thrilled me though I could not under- 
stand the words it uttered. But Jesus understood them and 
was exalted by them; for he at once burst into a still loftier 
and sublimer strain. It was a strain of prophecy, a strain of 
triumph, and yet of sadness too. He seemed to be bidding fare- 
well to the world, and yet he did not speak like a man who was 
defeated and had lost his hope. Rather did he have a sure 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 437 


sense that the end for which he had been living, whatever that 
may be, was now accomplished. 

“As soon as he had finished speaking he went away, and I 
did not see him again. The next day I started homeward, so 
I have no more to tell.” 

“But why did you come away?” said Thisoa. ‘Why did 
you not wish to stay and see what was to happen? Jesus is 
surrounded by enemies, as every one knows, and you say he 
seemed to be bidding farewell to the world.” 

“It was because I thought his end was near that I did not 
wish to stay. If the priestly party has its way, he will suffer 
a cruel death— one that I shudder to think of. So I left 
Shobek to bring further news. I had seen what I went to see. 
It was enough.” 

“You said you could not answer our question, What of 
Jesus?” said Xenodice, “yet I feel that you have answered it 
in your own mind. If you had not done so, would you have 
come away so soon? So you must tell us what you really 
think, my husband. Do you believe that Jesus is Messiah?” 

“As to that, it is hard for me to believe or disbelieve. But 
as I saw and heard him, I felt that his was the purest and 
loftiest soul this earth has ever seen.” 

“Then why do his own people hate him so?” asked Thisoa. 

“In part because he claims so much.” 

“Yet you do not on that account condemn him?” 

“Far from it, strange as it may seem; for pretense has 
always angered me. But when I heard Jesus put himself 
above all other men I had a strange but deep conviction that 
what he said was true.” 

“Can you recall none of his words?” inquired Xenodice. 

“Just one saying fixed itself in my mind: ‘If I be lifted up 
I will draw all men unto me.’ ” 

“What did he mean by that?” 

“More perhaps than will be known till many, many days 
have passed. But as I have thought about it, I have felt that 


438 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


he was speaking of his soul. Far above all other men in holi- 
ness of life, he will by his example make them better.” 

“Yes, his example might do that,” said Thisoa, “even if 
they put him to death. But should they do so, how could he 
be Messiah?” 

“What is a Messiah supposed to do?” 

“They think his task is to bring back the nation’s glory.” 

“Perhaps they are wrong. Perhaps his work is to purify 
their spirits and destroy their overweening pride.” 

“How perplexing it allis! What a strange and wonderful 
character he is and what amazing things he does! Do you 
believe he gave life to Lazarus after he had been in the tomb 
four days?” 

“Does it seem incredible to you?” 

“Oh, no! I could believe anything of the man whose face I 
looked into on the mountain top.” 

“JT, too, though not by nature credulous, could believe 
almost anything of the power which cured Hacho, snatched 
Zatthu from the very arms of death and brought back Naomi 
to life. There must be some limit to what Jesus can do, but I 
know not where it lies.” 

“How strange that we who are Greeks should borrow our 
faith from this alien people!” reflected Thisoa. 

“Not so strange,’ resumed Aristarchus. ‘Those who are 
initiated into the Eleusinian mysteries undoubtedly have 
glimpses of truth that is pure, beautiful and uplifting. But 
from the worship of the gods of my country I turned long 
ago. ‘They do not seem real. They do not inspire in me any 
feeling of reverence or devotion. I was thrilled sometimes by 
Phidias’ great statue of Athene in the Parthenon; still more 
was I awed the one time I looked up at his wondrous image of 
Zeus at Olympia. But the feeling was a passing one, and was 
called forth solely by the genius of the sculptor. Gold and 
ivory do not make a god.” 

“Great and noble men seemed to be raised up by our Greek 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 439 


religion,” said Xenodice. “There was Socrates, perhaps the 


grandest of them all.” 

“Yes, Greece has had great men to make her deeds great, 
her writings great, her philosophy great, though how far her 
religion made them what they were it would be hard to say. 
Of these there is none nobler than Socrates. Yet Jesus is a 
higher and a holier figure than he.” 

“What makes you feel so, father?” inquired Thisoa. 

“Partly the very claims of Jesus, because when I heard 
him make them they seemed to me true, as I have already told 
you. Had Socrates made such he would have appeared ridicu- 
lous. And that scene when the sister of Lazarus anointed 
the feet of Jesus and wiped them with her hair kept coming to 
my mind as I journeyed back from Jerusalem. I could not 
help contrasting it with the scene between Socrates and his 
wife on his last day in prison. She had come with her chil- 
dren, his children they were, to say farewell. But his words 
to her were hard and unfeeling. I see in Jesus a kindlier, a 
tenderer and a holier nature than our great countryman pos- 
sessed. 

“But you must think it strange that I should talk in this 
way —I who have all my life been silent about these great 
questions of religion and immortality. The truth is, I have 
been silent because I could not see the truth. I have always 
been seeking it. Often have I wandered at night and looked 
up at the stars to learn what they could tell me. But only 
now have the questions of my soul been answered. Jehovah 
who has so strangely made himself known to Israel is the one 
true God, and Jesus —I can only say I believe this carpen- 
ter’s son is nearer to Jehovah than any other man who has 
ever lived.” 

“Yet this,” said XNenodice, ‘fis the man whom his own coun- 
trymen wish to kill. Oh, I almost wish you had stayed longer 
in Jerusalem, so that you might bring us word of the things 
that perhaps even now are happening.” 


440 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“Shobek will come ere long and tell us,” replied Aris- 
tarchus. 

‘Yes, but what will he have to tell?” queried Thisoa. “Oh, 
I cannot believe Jehovah will let this holy man be cruelly 
sacrified. But may Shobek come soon. May he come soon.” 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 44] 


VIII 


Ten days passed before Shobek came — days which found 
Aristarchus busy and tranquil but which passed slowly and 
painfully to Xenodice and Thisoa. No matter to what house- 
hold activity they turned, their thought was always dwelling 
anxiously and wonderingly on what might be happening at 
Jerusalem. 

It was at noon on the eleventh day that Shobek arrived. 
He went straight to Aristarchus, whom he found in the room 
which he used as an office, said wearily, “It is all over,” and 
sank into a chair. 

“You mean that they have killed him?” 

“Yes; crucified him.” 

‘When did it happen?” 

“Day before yesterday.” 

“You lost no time in coming to let us know of it.” 

“No, I knew you would be anxious to hear. I started yes- 
terday at noon, traveled far into the night, and easily made 
the rest of the journey this morning.” 

“You are tired. Go and eat and drink, and then we will 
hear your story.” 

“TI am sad at heart, but I am not tired and I have no desire 
for food. I am ready now to tell you all I have seen.” 

“Then I will bring my wife and daughter here and we will 
hear what you have to say.” 

Xenodice and Thisoa came eagerly and Shobek was bidden 
to begin. 

“My story is not a long one,” he said. “I could not make 
it long; for it is a terrible thing I have to tell you of, and 
you would not want me to dwell upon pain and agony. 

“The priests, as you know, were determined to put Jesus 
to death. One of his own disciples, Judas by name, betrayed 
him to them the very night before the Passover. A body of 
armed men arrested him and early in the morning he was 


442 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


taken before Pilate. Now Pilate has a strain of kindness and 
mercy in him, as Zatthu and I can bear witness. He did not 
want to condemn Jesus to death and he sent him to Herod, 
claiming that it belonged to Herod rather than to himself to 
judge him because Jesus was a Galilean. But Herod only 
mocked him, arrayed him in a gorgeous robe and sent him 
back to Pilate. 

‘So Pilate had to give judgment, loath as he was to do so. 
He pronounced Jesus innocent and proposed to release him 
because it was a custom of the Jews that an accused person 
should be released at the Passover. ‘No, no,’ cried the Jews. 
‘Crucify Jesus and release’ — now who do you suppose it was 
they wished released? (And here Shobek looked searchingly 
at Aristarchus.) It was no other than that robber Barabbas, 
who nearly brought about your death and with whom Zatthu 
and I found shelter when Rome pressed us hard. Think of it! 
Jesus, who has healed men, sent to the cross! Barabbas, who 
has robbed and killed men, set at liberty ! 

“But so it was. Pilate did not dare to resist the priests 
and their party, for they told him that Jesus had declared 
himself a king and this was treason to Cesar. So Pilate had 
him scourged and crucified. | 

“T saw him led to the hill of Golgotha where the dreadful 
thing was done. He was made to carry his own cross and he 
fainted it was so heavy. So a man from Cyrene in Africa, 
Simon by name, was forced to bear it.” 

“Why did you not carry it yourself, Shobek!” inquired 
Aristarchus. “To you it would have been no burden.” 

“Gladly would I have done so; but the sight of Jesus, de- 
serted now by nearly every one, mocked and jeered at and 
soon to be cruelly tortured, had almost overpowered me. So 
I had dropped behind that my eyes might not rest upon this 
dreadful sight of suffering and hatred, and the burden of the 
cross was placed on Simon before I really knew what had 
been done. 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 443 


*“Nor near the spot where he was crucified was I able to lin- 
ger long. I saw the crosses raised — it was about the third 
hour — and there were three of them; for Jesus met this death 
of agony and shame between two evil-doers. They were 
marked only by their crimes; but over Jesus was placed this 
inscription by the command of Pilate: This is the King of 
the Jews. 

“But a few days before crowds had flocked to meet him 
with palm branches and hailed him with hosannas. Now he 
was almost friendless. A group of women stood and watched 
at a little distance. At the foot of the cross stood his mother 
with two other women and one of his disciples, John by name, 
whom it was said he greatly loved.” 

‘John!’ exclaimed Thisoa. ‘Why, he was the one who 
was kind to me on the mountain and showed me how I could 
find Jesus. Oh, what a kind, sweet face he had! I should 
have known he would be true. But Peter was so eager to pro- 
tect his master that he was harsh and would have me go 
away.” 

*‘And Peter was the one who failed his master when the 
hour of trial came. Of that I shall speak before I finish my 
story. It was John and the three women who stood faith- 
fully at the cross, watched the long agony that they felt 
cruelly, and waited for the end to come. That Jesus drew 
some little comfort from their presence and their unfailing 
affection, I could not but believe. But I did not know him; 
I could do nothing for him; and it tried me so to see him 
suffer that I went away and wandered through the city. 

*“Restlessly and ceaselessly I wandered, for my heart was 
heavy. And after a time a strange thing happened. About 
the sixth hour it grew dark, and until the ninth hour the sun 
was hid and the whole city plunged in night. At the ninth 
hour came an earthquake that made everything tremble, and 
the light of day came slowly back. Feeling that the end had 
come, I went back to the hill of the crucifixion, and I found 


444 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


that it was even so. Jesus had expired when the earthquake 
came. They had taken him down from the cross, and in the 
evening one Joseph of Arimathea, first getting Pilate’s per- 
mission, laid the body in his own new tomb. 

“Such was the end of Jesus. Regarding him, I have noth- 
ing more to tell. But I must recount to you what passed 
between me and a man [ met when I started to roam about the 
city. For that man was Barabbas. It was very near the 
scene of the crucifixion that I fell in with him. He seemed to 
have been drawn there irresistibly, as if compelled to witness 
the suffering he had so narrowly escaped. 

** ‘Barabbas,’ I said, ‘you ought to be hanging there upon 
the cross instead of that holy man. He has done nothing but 
good in the world and you have done nothing but evil.’ 

“He recognized me, shrugged his shoulders and replied: 
‘They set me free. I should have been a fool not to have made 
the most of it.’ | 

“At any rate you know you deserve the cross,’ I said. 
‘What evil thing did you do last?’ 

“They called it insurrection. One of our band had been 
captured and taken to Jerusalem. With several of my men 
I went into the city and raised a street brawl to effect a 
rescue. In the fray I killed a man, and though my comrades 
got away, I was seized and put in prison.’ 

“T looked hard at him and said: ‘One more murder. How 
many altogether have you committed?’ 

‘Many. But my deeds are not all evil. You know that.’ 

“ Ves,’ I said, ‘I know that. You sheltered Zatthu and 
myself when the Romans almost had their hands upon us. 
And I have never believed you played the traitor. Were you 
in the plot to hand us over to the Romans?’ 

““*No. My hands are clear of that business. I so hate the 
Romans that I admired your friend because he had made 
them his enemies.’ 

* “You are not all bad, Barabbas. You ought not to go 


S — — ——E—— 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 4A5 


back to the life you have led and do all the evil things to which 
it forces you.’ 

***What else could I do?’ 

**Tend sheep. Work in a vineyard. Plough and sow and 
reap. Perform any useful labor. Look at that imnocent suf- 
fering man upon the cross! By his death you have won your 
life. Use it for better things than robbing and murdering.’ 

“The sullen defiant look he had always worn seemed to pass 
as I said this. ‘Perhaps I will. Perhaps I will,’ he mur- 
mured, and walked away.” 

‘What a strange interview!” said Aristarchus. “What a 
strange ending to an intercourse that began in a bloody fray, 
was continued in a den of thieves and terminated near the 
very cross on which this man who had both fought you and 
sheltered you should have paid for his misdeeds with his life! 
I suppose Zatthu would see the hand of Jehovah in it. Well, 
he may be right. But go on with your story. What else hap- 
pened before you left Jerusalem?” 

“Nothing of moment. I was lodging, you know, with a 
brother of my father’s, a fisherman who had long known Peter, 
the disciple of Jesus. The next morning he went with me to 
Peter, for he knew where to find him; and Peter showed him- 
self a very penitent and utterly disheartened man. When 
Jesus was arrested and taken to the palace of the high priest, 
Peter went in too, to see what would take place. He had now 
lost all heart and courage, and when he was accused of being 
one of Jesus’ followers he denied that it was so. Hardly had 
he done this before the very thing happened which Jesus, it 
seems, had prophesied. A cock crew, and Peter, remembering 
the prophecy, wept bitter tears of repentance. 

‘He was still lamenting his cowardice when we found him, 
and with the death of Jesus all his hopes had perished. As 
soon as he saw my uncle, he burst into a flood of tears, told 
how recreant he had been, how sorry he was, and how hard it 
was to go back to the old life after having felt so sure that a 


446 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


new and glorious day was dawning for Israel. But there was 
nothing else left for him to do, and the very sight of my uncle 
made him think of his Hs craft. The two » began to talk of 
going a-fishing. 

“So I bade them goodbye, and started for Capernaum. If 
Jesus’ own follower felt that all was over, I could take no 
other view. I had but one duty now, to come back and tell 
you what I had seen; and as fast as I could, I made the jour- 
ney hither.” 

“Perhaps,” said Thisoa, “you might have been more hope- 
ful if you had seen and talked with John instead of Peter. 
And yet what hope could there be? It is all so strange and 
so very, very sad!” 

“Did Jesus’ followers offer no resistance when he was 
arrested?” inquired Aristarchus. 

“Peter did. It would seem that he had prepared himself 
to defend his master by force; for he drew a sword which he 
was carrying, and wounded one of the high priest’s servants. 
But Jesus forbade further resistance. So his followers could 
but stand peacefully by and see him led away.” 

“What of Zatthu and Marcus?” inquired Xenodice. 
**When did you see them last?” 

“YT have seen very little of them. Zatthu of course has been 
living in his own home and we did not meet often. I saw him 
last at the crucifixion; but I was not near him and did not 
try to speak to him. When I have run across him he has not 
cared to talk freely with me. Not that there has been any 
cloud upon our old intimacy. It is simply that his one 
thought has been of Jesus. All of Jesus’ movements he has 
followed closely, and I know that he has been working and 
planning day and night to save him from his enemies. But 
it was all in vain. It makes me sad to think of his grief and 
disappointment. 

“Of Marcus I have seen almost nothing. He has been much 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 4 AT 


with Pilate, and that is all I know. I think he lodged at the 
centurion’s quarters on Mount Zion.” 

“You did well to come when you did, Shobek,” said Aris- 
tarchus. ‘‘You have brought terrible tidings, but they were 
not unexpected, and we were all anxious to know the truth. 
Marcus and Zatthu will in due time tell us if there is still any 
hope.” 

““But how could there be any hope?” said Xenodice. “It 
would seem as if a man who performed such miracles as Jesus 
did must have had Jehovah on his side and could have con- 
founded and destroyed his enemies as the leaders of Israel 
did of old. But he let himself be led to his death. The time for 
his rise to greatness and for Israel’s deliverance has plainly 
passed.” 

“So it would seem,” said Aristarchus very slowly and de- 
liberately. ‘So it would seem. But I cannot get out of my 
mind that voice which answered Jesus when he said: ‘Father, 
glorify Thy name.’ Was it Jehovah’s voice he heard? He 
was sure that it was; that was manifest. And if he was 
obeying Jehovah when he let himself be arrested and put to 
death, it was for some great end.” 

“T have believed in Jesus,” said Xenodice, “ever since Thi- 
soa saw him on the mountain and Zatthu told us of his cure. 
Yet his death makes me wonder; and that voice almost sounds 
to me like a trick.” 

“Had you seen the light on the face of Jesus,” replied 
Aristarchus, “you could have had no such thought. No man 
that looked as he did then ever played the deceiver.” 

“And the man into whose face I looked,” said Thisoa, “was 
as much above trickery or falsehood as the heavens are above 
the earth. I too cannot help having a grain of hope. But 
how we shall long for Marcus or Zatthu to appear!” 


9 


b) 


448 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


IX 


It was on the Sabbath that Shobek arrived to tell his story. 
Not till the second Sabbath after that had come round did 
they get’ further news; and this time the news was brought 
by Marcus. 

He came with Naarah and on the face of neither was there 
the look of sadness and dejection that Shobek had worn on 
his return. 

“You have something good to tell us, Marcus,” cried Thi- 
soa. “I can read it in your face. And you have the same glad 
expression, Naarah. Do tell us what has happened!” 

“Yes, I have something strange and wonderful to tell,” 
said Marcus. ‘Of course I recounted everything to Naarah 
first ; but the moment I had done so we made our way hither. 
I learned from Naarah the tidings that Shobek brought and 
I knew how anxious you would be to hear what had happened 
since. So now that we are all together, I will make known 
to you the great news. Jesus rose from the tomb on the third 
day, as he had prophesied he would.” | 

“Then he did not die?” was Thisoa’s query. 

“Yes. It was the truth that Shobek announced to you. 
He expired upon the cross. He expired sooner than men usu- 
ally do when they are submitted to that lingering agony. 
With a great cry he died, and the evening of that same day 
he was laid in the tomb. But when women went to anoint him 
with spices on the morning of the third day, the tomb was 
empty.” 

“How could they be sure the body was not stolen by his 
enemies ?”” 

“Because an angel told them otherwise. Because he ap- 
peared himself to Mary Magdalene —a woman to whom he 
had been gracious and who worshipped him almost as if he 
were Jehovah — and then to his own disciples.” 





PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 449 


“But what does it mean?” said Xenodice. “Why did he 
let himself be put to death if he has such power?” 

“JT do not know. I do not yet understand. I do not believe 
his own disciples understand. But I feel sure it was to carry 
out some great and wondrous purpose of Jehovah.” 

“Have his disciples again gathered about him?” asked 
Aristarchus. “Is he rousing in them their former hopes?” 

“By no means. He is not the same that he was before. He 
seems almost like a spirit. Only for a short time does he show 
himself to his disciples, and then suddenly when they are not 
expecting him. And sometimes they do not even recognize 
him till he fully reveals himself to them.” 

“Have you seen him, yourself?” 

“No. All this I have learned from Zatthu who has for 
some time been on friendly and familiar terms with some of 
the disciples. From them he heard all that I have told you, 
and more than once he has sought me out to give me news that 
I could bring to you.” 

“You say you doubt if Jesus’ own disciples understand why 
he has suffered death and risen from the tomb. What makes 
you think that? You have no acquaintance with them, have 
your” | 

“None at all. I only judge from the things which Zatthu 
tells me. He says they seem bewildered and unable to form 
any plan of action. They had, you see, one fixed idea up to 
the time when Jesus was arrested and condemned —that he 
was to be head of a mighty kingdom and they were to be his 
chief ministers. That hope is forever gone. Jesus as a spirit 
who appears to them suddenly and disappears does not revive 
it. It is a joy to them to see him, but it does not seem the 
way to any end.” 

“Do you see how it is the way to any end?” 

All these searching questions were put by Aristarchus. 
Deliberately and with carefully chosen words Marcus had 


450 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


answered them. But to this last query he made no reply at 
once. Finally he said, | 

“It would be presumptuous in me to think that I can see 
where Jesus’ own followers are groping blindly. But surely 
Jesus came into this world for some great purpose; and 
plainly it was not the purpose his disciples had shaped in 
their own minds. He was not sent by Jehovah to free Israel 
from Rome or to establish a great kingdom. He was not sent 
merely to heal many of disease; for that work of mercy is all 
ended and who is to carry it on? He is still seen, but only 
rarely and only for a short space of time. He really does not 
seem to belong to this world any longer. It cannot be that 
he has vanquished death and walked among men once more in 
order to do any of the great things a man may accomplish 
before he is laid in the tomb. 

“It would seem to me then that he must have come into the 
world to make men better; and he is to do this by making 
them know Jehovah better. Has the spirit of the great Jeho- 
vah been in these Jews whose worship is a mere blind observ- 
ance of their ritual and lets them hate and cruelly kill one 
who was vastly purer and holier than they? I cannot think 
so. It is not the restoration to their ancient glory that these 
Hebrews need; rather is it a chastened, a humbler and a more 
merciful spirit. 

“That is the only lesson I can read from this unparalleled 
life of purity, of holiness and of limitless compassion. But 
what do you think, Aristarchus? I, though a Roman, have 
embraced the Hebrew faith. You have not. What does your 
Greek mind with its keen powers of discernment, its native 
love of justice, and its long and close study of men and things, 
say to you of this wonderful life, its sudden and unexpected 
end and its startling reappearance in the world after it had 
been claimed by death?” 

“Y can do little more than echo your opinion, Marcus. 
And perhaps that will not seem strange to you when [I tell 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 451 


you, what my family already know, that I too have bowed to 
Jehovah. I was really ready to do this before I saw Jesus. 
After I had seen him I did‘it with no reservations in my mind. 
Jesus, I felt, had the spirit of Jehovah in him as no other man 
has ever had it. It was to manifest this spirit that he came. 
When he had done this his purpose was accomplished and so 
he let himself be put to death. Now that he has come back 
from the tomb, I can only think it is to make his work still 
more complete — though how I do not see. How indeed could 
any of us see? It isa strange, strange story, full of mystery. 
How do you read it, Naarah?” 

“My mind,” said Naarah, “goes back to the day when 
Thisoa and I visited my grandfather and to the vision he had 
when we asked him about Jesus. His mind seemed then to be 
opened like that of the prophets of old. In Jesus he saw the 
Messiah that is promised in our Scriptures, and the words 
that tell of his coming and his nature rushed in a torrent from 
his lips. And those words spoke of a great darkness and a 
great light. Did not the darkness come when Jesus was ex- 
piring on the cross and night fell on Jerusalem? And did not 
the great light dawn when Jesus conquered death and rose 
from the tomb? How the light is to grow and illumine all my 
people, I do not know. But I have a strange deep feeling 
that the light has come.” 

“You have told us what your deepest thought is about 
Jesus,” said Xenodice. ‘Will you not now relate what really 
happened under your own eyes during those days in which 
you tarried in Jerusalem? You must have seen and heard 
things about which we would gladly know.” 

“Question me then,” said Marcus. “You have heard Sho- 
bek’s story. I would not repeat it.” 

“Pray tell us then,” said Thisoa, “Show Pilate could find it 
in him to send Jesus to a cruel death. Shobek thought it was 
through actual fear of the high priest and his party. Was 
that really so?” 


452 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“You have probably asked me the one thing about which I 
could tell you more than Shobek. Yes, Pilate was overawed 
by the rabid hatred and the fierce insistence of the priestly 
party. I know, for I was standing near him when Jesus was 
brought into his presence.” 

“TY have wondered,” said Aristarchus, “if you were not with 
Pilate when he had to pass judgment upon Jesus. What a 
great and yet terrible scene you witnessed — the innocent con- 
demned by the unrighteous. Tell me, did Rome ever do a 
baser thing?” 

“Your shaft is well aimed, Aristarchus, and it hits. Rome’s 
rule is essentially a just one; But she sometimes exalts men 
who bring her into contempt — and this judgment passed by 
Pilate upon Jesus is the most shameful and unrighteous deed 
that a servant of hers has ever done.” 

“You think Pilate did it unwillingly?” 

‘Most unwillingly.” 

“Did he give Jesus no chance to defend himself?” 

‘“He gave him every chance; but Jesus would not defend 
himself. He read the man who questioned him.” 

“He did question him?” 

“Yes, and seriously. I shall never indeed forget that ques- 
tioning. Pilate is a man who thinks. In the man before him 
he saw nobility and greatness of soul. Gladly would he have 
drawn him into a discussion and got from him words of 
weight to ponder over. When Jesus said that his kingdom 
was not of this world, Pilate asked him if he was a king. 
Jesus did not deny it, but said that he came to bear witness 
unto the truth. ‘What is truth?? demanded Pilate. But 
Jesus made no answer. He knew how useless it was. But 
Pilate had been so impressed by his lofty words and the sublime 
calmness of his spirit that he told the Jews he found him 
‘blameless and that he wished to release him. But this decision 
raised such a storm of protest that he released Barabbas 


— 


ee 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 453 


instead, had Jesus scourged and then delivered to his enemies 
to be crucified.” 

“Could not you have saved him?” demanded Thisoa. 

“TY do not think so.” 

“Did you try?” 

SSN o.?? 

“How could you help it when you saw that holy innocent 
man standing friendless before you?” 

“He was not friendless. A mighty friend was with him 
then and there.” 

‘Who, pray?” 

“Jehovah.” 

“How do you know? What do you mean?” asked Thisoa, 
awed by the solemnity of Marcus’ manner. 

*“T mean exactly what Isay. All the great things Jesus has 
done, all the miracles of healing he has wrought, he has done 
because Jehovah was working through him as He worked 
through Moses and other leaders in the ancient days. And 
that He has been with Jesus up to the very moment when he 
expired upon the cross, I have no doubt. For when Jesus was 
arrested his followers would have defended him; but Jesus 
forbade them to use their swords and said his Father would 
send legions of angels to protect him if he prayed for them. 
And by his Father whom but Jehovah could he mean?” 

“How did you learn that he said that?” questioned Thisoa. 

“From Zatthu. He was with Jesus when he was arrested 
and he heard him say it.” 

‘“Was he present when Pilate questioned Jesus?” 

“Yes. And as I learned from him afterward, he felt as I 
did, that Jesus could have used Jehovah’s power to confound 
all his enemies had he so chosen. He let himself be led to a 
death of suffering because he knew it was Jehovah’s will.” 

“And so you felt you could do naught to save him?” 

“Yes. Strange as it may seem, I felt exactly that.” 


454 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


“You were not even moved to try and secure for him a 
quicker and less painful death?” 

**No, not even that.” 

“Could you have done so?” 

“IT hardly think it. Pilate was thoroughly cowed by the 
Jews. He said it was innocent blood that was shed and he 
publicly washed his hands to show that he was guiltless of it. 
But he did not dare to stand against the wrath and fury of 
Jesus’ enemies.” 

“He was a coward!” cried Thisoa with passion. 

“Before you who are my friends I do not deny it, though 
he is my superior whose mandates I must obey.” 

“TI suppose,” said Thisoa reflectively, ““you must be right. 
I suppose it was all done in accordance with Jehovah’s will. 
But oh, the shame and horror of it! That man, who looked 
on me with eyes more tender than any mother’s, hated and 
maltreated and surrendered to cruel vindictive enemies by the 
very man whose duty it was to save him! Oh, the Roman 
purple is disgraced forever. Socrates’ judges were brave and 
virtuous men compared with Pilate.” 

“YT cannot rebuke your indignation,’ 
wholly justified.” 

“Did you not feel it yourself when you saw that Pilate was 
going to let the Jews have their way?” 

“To some extent. But so deep was my conviction that 
Jesus was letting some deep mysterious purpose be carried 
out that my mind was filled with wonder more than indigna- 
tion. Ever my eyes were fixed on Jesus. In the very lowliness 
with which he bore himself there was a majesty that made me 
feel like kneeling before him there and asking him to let me 
serve him.” 

“You could feel like that,” Thisoa exclaimed, “and right 
at your side were the men whom the sight and the words of 
Jesus filled with venomous hate and the longing to torture and 
slay him! What a strange thing is this human heart! 


> said Marcus. “It is 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 455 


Sophocles and Euripides were right when they made it the 
seat of every kind of passion, evil and good. And women as 
well as men can be wicked. One has only to think of Clytem- 
nestra and Medea.” 

“Or of Jezebel; if you want a real person and not one 
imagined by the poets,” was Naarah’s comment. 

“At any rate, I am glad no woman had anything to do with 
the death of Jesus.” 

“One woman tried to save him, but in vain,” said Marcus. 

“How glad I am to hear it!’ exclaimed Thisoa. “It is the 
only gleam of light that relieves this dark, dark story. But 
who, pray, was she?” 

“Pilate’s wife.” 

“Did he tell you that?” 

“Yes. I saw him the day after Jesus was crucified. Con- 
scious that he had played a sorry part he tried to justify 
himself in my eyes. He told me that his wife had sent him 
word not to condemn Jesus because of a dream she had had, 
and how desirous he had really been to obey the warning. 
But as the Jews made it appear that Jesus was guilty of trea- 
son, he had to give way to them out of respect to Rome. I did 
not rebuke him, for he is clad with authority; but he realized 
how weak and pitiful I felt his plea to be.” 

“When did you see Zatthu last?” inquired Aristarchus. 

“The day before I came away.” 

‘What is he doing and when will he return?” 

“He is simply watching and waiting. Something momen- 
tous, so he thinks, may happen any day and any hour. His 
whole mind is upon these mighty happenings. He may not 
appear for many days yet, but when he comes he is likely to 
bring wondrous tidings.” 

“More days of waiting and suspense, it seems,” said Aris- 
tarchus. “And waiting for what? That is the strange thing 
about it. When Shobek brought word that Jesus had been 
put to death, I felt that that was not the end. I looked for 


9 


456 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


something further, something surprising, something that had 
never happened before — and you have brought the astonish- 
ing story of Jesus’ emergence from the tomb. And now again 
we look for something further, but are as ignorant as ever of 
what that further thing can be. But again I am sure it will 
fill our souls with wonder. Well, we must all be patient tul 
Zatthu comes.” 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 457 


X 


Yet they found it hard to be patient, for day after day 
passed by and still Zatthu neither appeared nor sent any mes- 
sage. At last, after four more Sabbaths had elapsed, he came. 

When he had greeted Aristarchus he sought Thisoa and 
joyous was their meeting. Thisoa’s feeling was too deep to 
suffer the restraints of a timid soul which does not find in 
the very sanctity of its own emotion its sufficient safeguard. 
Her gladness was so freely manifested that Zatthu was thrilled 
and awed by it, and he showed how the love he had so long 
repressed now flooded and exalted his whole being. 

But not for long did the lovers remain by themselves. 

“You have tidings, wondrous tidings to make known to us,” 
said Thisoa. “I can read it in your countenance. Glad tid- 
ings, I am sure they are, for you come back bearing yourself 
like one who has to tell of a battle won. So let us go to my 
father and mother who are as eager as I am to hear your 
story.” 

“Yes. It is glad tidings that I bring; but let Marcus and 
Naarah be summoned — yes, and Shobek too must hear what 
I have to say. When we are all gathered together, I will 
speak. It is a strange, a solemn and unheard-of thing I have 
to relate. I would not go round repeating it like a tale 
bearer.” 

Marcus and Naarah came quickly and eagerly in response 
to the summons sent them; and Shobek was only too anxious 
to listen once more to the man he had served so devotedly and 
long. When all were assembled Zatthu said, 

‘Wondrous, wondrous indeed is the news I bring you. 
Jesus will be seen by human eyes no more. The mighty Jeho- 
vah who sent him has taken him unto Himself. Even while we 
were all gazing upon him he rose from earth; a cloud received 
him and veiled him from our sight.” 


458 ZATTHU-—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


So solemnly did Zatthu say this that his listeners were 
awed and for a short time, sat in silence. Finally Marcus 
asked, 

“Who saw this wondrous sight?” 

“The company of followers whom he had chosen and who 
had assembled at his bidding.” 

“Was it near Jerusalem that they had gathered?” 

“Yes, close by Jerusalem.” 

“‘And did he lay any last commands upon them?” 

“Yes. Unable to rid themselves of the view they had so 
fondly cherished, they asked him if he was to restore Israel 
to its kingly state. His answer made them feel it was not for 
them to know what was willed by Jehovah; but that power 
from on high would be given them and they were to bear wit- 
ness to him not only through this Hebrew land but to the 
furtherest parts of the earth.” 

“You say they were to bear witness. Does ‘they’? mean 
you, Zatthu?” inquired Aristarchus. 

“Yes,” replied Zatthu, slowly but unhesitatingly. “I was 
one of them. The command was laid on me.” 

“You are one of those whom Jesus chose?” asked Thisoa 
earnestly. 

“Not as he chose the Twelve and as he sent forth the 
seventy apostles. But I have mingled with the Twelve and 
talked freely with them. With some of the seventy apostles 
I have had close intercourse. I once looked into the eyes of 
Jesus; I saw that he read my soul and knew my story; from 
that hour I have felt that I belonged wholly to him. When 
he was betrayed by Judas, I was near him, sword in hand, to 
repel his enemies had he so willed. But he did not will it, and 
I could but stand helpless and see him tried, condemned and 
put to a cruel death.” 

“T have told all here,” said Marcus, “how we both felt 
powerless to help Jesus because he seemed to be bowing to 
Jehovah’s will. I have told them, too, in answer to their own 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 459 


earnest questioning, that Jesus seemed to me to have come 
into the world to take away its evil; for even though he rose 
from the tomb, he no longer belonged to this world and he 
could not have made himself King of Israel. Do not Jesus’ 
last injunctions to his followers confirm this view? What is 
the witness you will bear to him unless it be just this?” 

“T believe you to be wholly right, Marcus,” answered Zat- 
thu. ‘‘Jesus came into the world to purify it, not to make 
himself a king. It was exactly this, I have been reminded by 
some of the Twelve, that John the Baptist said of him; for, 
seeing him, he uttered this strange saying: Behold the Lamb 
of God which taketh away the sin of the world. That same 
John the Baptist we Pharisees despised, and I was one of his 
chief contemners. But he saw the light while we were in dark- 
ness.” 

“Yet it was not strange that you thought John the Baptist 
an impostor and his words mere folly,” said Naarah. “Our 
nation looked for a great deliverer, like Moses; and how 
could it be freed from Rome’s heavy hand by one so mild and 
gentle that he could be spoken of as the Lamb of God?” 

“Perhaps it was not strange,” said Zatthu, “though I am 
loath to make any excuses for my blindness. But ah, how 
often do we turn from the truth because it seems to us 
strange! 'Those prophecies that tell of the Messiah to come 
— how strange they are, how hard to understand! But since 
I was reminded that John the Baptist called Jesus the Lamb 
of God, I have found one of Isaiah’s prophetic utterances 
coming home to me again and again with startling power. 
For in a sublime but sorrowful strain which seems clearly to 
be spoken of the Messiah he uses these words which our 
learned men could never fathom: He is brought as a lamb to 
the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so 
he openecth not his mouth. Verily it was as a lamb that Jesus 
was led to the cross; and when he was questioned, accused and 


460 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


vilified before the high priests and before Pilate, he opened 
not his mouth.” 

So solemn was Zatthu’s manner and so manifestly deep and 
fervent was the feeling out of which he spoke, that a hush fell 
upon the little group that was listening to him. It was Thisoa 
who broke the silence. 

“T too am ashamed of my blindness,” she said very gently. 
“T shall try to make amends for it all my days; and whatever 
you do, wherever you go, Zatthu, in obeying the last com- 
mands of Jesus, I shall be at your side. But what is it you 
are to do and whither are you to go?” 

“T am to tell the world of this holy hfe,” said Zatthu with 
thrilling tones and rapt expression. “That is what I am to 
do. Wherever I see men sunk in selfishness and needing to 
hear that wondrous story, there I am to go. And the path 
will be made clear; the light will come — yes, it will come and 
enlighten our souls as surely as the sun will keep on giving 
light to the world.” 

“But what is to become of my poor suffering country?” 
questioned Naarah. “You, Zatthu, made us think that you 
were called to set it free and lift it into greatness; but you 
failed. Then we placed our hopes in Jesus; but he too has 
failed. Who then shall make Jerusalem a quiet habitation, 
not one of the stakes of which shall ever be removed nor any 
of the cords thereof be broken?” 

“Jehovah,” replied Zatthu. “Jehovah alone, and in his 
own time and his own way. We in our ignorance can only 
say: His will be done. When our sin and selfishness needed 
rebuke, He sent us Jesus to show us the way of righteousness 
and holiness as it has never been shown to men before. And 
He who has dealt so wondrously and mercifully with us can 
be trusted to do all things well.” 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 461 


XI 


Ten days had passed since Zatthu’s return from Jerusalem. 
With Thisoa he had sought the old olive tree near the edge 
of the high ground that commanded the lake, and sitting un- 
der its shadow they were watching the waves of Gennesaret 
flash in the afternoon sunlight. In silence they sat for a while; 
then Thisoa said, half-queryingly as if asking confirmation 
of what she really knew, 

“And so Eliud Merari has passed on.” 

“Yes, and grandly, even as he lived.” 

“You told us how he died; but I do not believe you said to 
my father and mother and Shobek, when we all came together 
to hear your story, what you would wish to say to me. Is it 
not so?” 

“You have read me aright, Thisoa,” said Zatthu, looking 
at her with a smile. “I could not then tell all that Merari 
said without giving too great consequence to myself and to 
what I have been doing since I thought myself, so mistakenly, 
raised up to deliver Israel. But to you, to whom I used to 
speak so freely in those days when your father first opened 
his home to me; to you, to whom I have now given my whole 
heart, I am ready, yes, glad, to relate everything that passed. 

“That hour with Merari was indeed a wondrous one and 
never to be forgotten. The breath of life seemed almost gone 
out of him when I found him lying in his chamber that was 
flooded by the light of the setting sun. His eyes were closed, 
but he knew me as I softly entered the room, though I had not 
allowed my presence to be announced to him. For his spirit 
has for some time been so nearly free from the body that its 
sight has not been that of mere mortal vision. He has seen 
even as those see who have entered Jehovah’s country; and I 
soon found that I did not need to tell him what I had with my 
own eyes witnessed in and about Jerusalem. 


462 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


***T am so glad you have come,’ he said; ‘for now I can die. 
The sun and I bid farewell to the world together.’ 

“And you could not die before I came?’ I asked. 

“**T was not willing to, and I was sure Jehovah would bring 
you before my eyes were forever closed. No, I was holding 
the breath of life to see you, there are things I want so much 
to say. And first, I must tell you that I know all. I know 
that Jesus was Messiah. I know how he died upon the cross. 
I know how he rose from the tomb and walked with his dis- 
ciples. And I know how he was received up into heaven and 
will be seen on earth no more.’ 

***So I do not need to tell you the things I have seen and 
heard.’ | 

““No. It is not really for that that I have been waiting for 
speech with you. I have wanted to give you an old man’s dying 
blessing. You have failed, and yet you have gloriously tri- 
umphed. My heart went out to you when you sought me first 
and made known to me your great ambition. For your zeal, 
your devotion to our bleeding country, and your sublime 
faith in Jehovah, I had deep respect. But I felt that you 
were misguided. Unselfish as your love of Israel seemed, I 
saw that love of self was so mingled with it that you were to 
pass through the valley of humiliation. The dark days that 
were before you crowded on my sight. But I could not warn 
you. I could not teach you. It was for Jehovah and for 
Him only to do that. 

**¢And in His own way He has done it. Tribulation came. 
Failure came. You lay dying of a broken heart. But Jeho- 
vah did not suffer you to die. The bruised. reed He did not 
break and the smoking flax He did not quench; but in the 
deeps of your wounded spirit He brought forth judgment 
unto victory. Through Jesus you were brought from death 
to life; and to Jesus you turned because you saw in him the 
light of the world. That rebellious self which had led you 
astray you conquered utterly, and you gave to Jesus, our 





PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 463 


Messiah, the devotion you would fain have won to yourself 
through all Judea. It was well done. It was well done, my 
friend, and Jehovah will bless you for it all your days.’ 

“Instinctively I knelt as the old man solemnly uttered these 
last words, and placing his hands upon my head he said in 
tones that thrilled me through and through: ‘Jehovah bless 
you and keep you; Jehovah make his face shine upon you and 
be gracious unto you; Jehovah lift up his countenance upon 
you and give you peace.’ 

“For some moments I knelt by the bedside. I was loath to 
rise, for I felt as if I had been taken out of the noise, the 
strife and the passions of the world and that Jehovah was 
very near. But, rising after a while and resuming my seat, I 
looked upon Merari; and as I looked I was filled with awe. 
His eyes were closed and there was such a light of peace and 
holiness upon his face that I thought his spirit had passed 
with the benediction he had given me. Ah, what a solemn 
beauty his features had! Never shall I see such a look on any 
human countenance again. I gazed at him rapt and silent. 
I could not have opened my lips to break that solemn stillness. 

“But presently he opened his eyes and looked at me with a 
smile of wondrous sweetness. Reading my thought, he said, 

““<No, my son, I have not passed, but my end is very near. 
Give my love to my dear Naarah and to her noble husband. 
Tell them that my last thoughts were of them and that a great 
joy filled my heart as I dwelt upon their deep abiding happi- 
ness. ‘They too, I know, have turned to Jesus as Messiah, 
even as you have done. The call has come to you. Be true 
to it and you will all find peace.’ 

** “Ves, the call has come,’ I said. ‘We have heard it. We 
shall be true to it, and it will surely give us the peace you 
promise. Perhaps, indeed, the peace into which you have so 
perfectly entered will not come to us at once. We must not 
obey the call because of what joy and happiness it will bring 
to us. Jesus heard Jehovah’s own voice speaking, and to him 


464 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


it brought the cross. And though he has promised peace to 
those who would follow him, he also said many things to warn 
his disciples that peace might sometimes be bought by pain. 
For John, whom he loved so deeply, told me that in the very 
night of his betrayal, in his last solemn charge to his chosen 
Twelve he said these words: “In the world ye shall have tribu- 
lation; but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.” 

*“*You have grown wise, my son; you have grown very 
wise,’ Merari said the moment I had done speaking; and he 
looked at me yearningly to show his deep gratification. ‘You 
need no words from me. You have learned all that I could 
teach you— yes and much more. You, and all those who 
have become so dear to you, will be true to the call and you 
will find peace, even though you first pass through troubled 
waters. And would that my down-trodden country might 
find it also! I fear it has brought woe upon itself by slaying 
that holy man. But Jehovah has watched over it in time 
past; He will surely do so in the years to come. 

“But the sun is setting and darkness is stealing over the 
world. And over these eyes of mine that have looked on it for 
more than four score years the darkness is stealing also. No 
longer can I see your face. I could not see my children were 
they here. But some day I shall see you all again in the land 
I am entering even now. Already its light is shining full upon 
me like a morning sun. Oh, wondrous, glorious light! Fare- 
well? 

‘He said no more, but lay with his hands folded on his 
breast and that same look of radiant happiness that gave his 
countenance a more than earthly beauty. For a long time the 
look lingered, and my soul was filled with peace as I gazed at 
him in reverence and awe. So still he lay that his breathing 
was hardly apparent and we could not tell the moment when 
his spirit passed. All that we were sure of was that, soon 
after sundown, he was not, for Jehovah took him.” 

Zatthu ceased and after a few moments Thisoa said, 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 465 


“A noble life; a noble death. Was not he truly one of the 
followers of Jesus of Nazareth?” 

“As surely as Nicodemus, who revered him but did not pro- 
claim himself a disciple; as surely as Joseph of Arimathea 
who laid him in the tomb. Many, very many are doubtless 
blessing his name who will never tell the world how much they 
owe him, how deeply they revere him. Only with hushed 
voices, at the fireside, and to groups of friends, will the multi- 
tudes he healed tell the wondrous story of their deliverance.” 

“And will he count that following him?” 

“I am sure he will if in the heart the feeling of reverence 
and gratitude be deeply cherished. The light cannot come to 
all in the same way.” 

“How do you think it will come to Marcus and where will 
it lead him?” 

“Ah, that is a hard question to answer, and to Marcus it 
may well prove a troublesome, yes, a terrible question. But 
if he has to choose between Jesus and Rome, I am sure he will 
choose Jesus.” 

“No,” said Thisoa very soberly, “the light cannot come to 
all in the same way. But how glad I am that it has come to 
you as it has and made you long to give it to the world. A 
wonderful story you have to tell, and wonderfully you will 
tell it.” And as Thisoa said this she gave Zatthu a look of 
pride and deep affection. 

“Yes, a wonderful story, Thisoa, and wonderful was your 
own part init. I have indeed been strangely led and I shall 
glory in making it known. [ shall glory in seeking hearers and 
telling them of the light that has come into the world. No, 
not for me,” Zatthu went on with kindling eye and tones that 
thrilled Thisoa by their intensity, “‘the quiet fireside tale, the 
cautious speech to a listening group of trusted friends. In 
the busy street, in the village when the toil of the day is over, 
in the market place, in the synagogues of the very men who 
exulted in Jesus’ death, I shall lift up my voice and say that 


466 ZATTHU—A TALE of ANCIENT GALILEE 


Messiah has come to take away the sin of the world. My soul 
was on fire when I told my people that Jehovah would break 
their yoke of bondage if they would but trust Him. Yes, my 
soul was on fire, but the fire was not pure and clean. It was 
kindled by a love of self that I did not know and see. That 
fire had to be burnt out, and in the burning I almost perished. 
But that proud unhallowed self was consumed, and the fire 
that is in me now has been kindled by the healer of Nazareth 
who raised me from death to life; and that fire will burn ever 
more brightly till I die. It will kindle my lips to speak as I 
never spoke when I thought myself Jehovah’s messenger. It 
will light my path and lead me whither I know not; but the 
path that shines before me I shall follow to the end of my 
days. If it leads me to traverse raging waters, I shall fear 
not. If it brings me scorn and hatred, I shall care not. If 
the cross is to be my fate, I shall shrink not; for I shail think 
it has been forever hallowed by the death that Jesus died.” 

Other words equally fervent were about to rush from 
Zatthu’s lips, but even as he was about to utter them he 
paused and looked at Thisoa; for the thought came sud- 
denly to him that the ardor which filled his soul might not 
have fired hers also. Would she possibly feel that the future 
he pictured was too sombre and was bringing a shadow on 
that happiness which had come like a flood of sunshine into 
their lives? 

It was indeed only a question, not a doubt, that visited his 
heart; and the question at once gave way to an exquisite joy 
as he caught the rapt and exalted look upon her face and the 
boundless trust with which her eyes met his own. But she 
did not speak, for she feared lest any words, however devoted, 
she might utter would disturb the current of his speech. Nor 
were words needed. Her look gave new fire to his spirit, and 
stretching his hands heavenward, he cried, 

“Oh, thou mighty and eternal Jehovah, it is thou that hast 
sent to earth this holy man! It is thou that hast taken him 


PART VI—DARKNESS AND DAY 46'7 


to thyself now that he has revealed as it has never been 
revealed before, thy glory, thy mercy, thy long-suffering! 
Through the face of Jesus of Nazareth thou hast shined upon 
the world. Through his boundless tenderness which made 
him take little children in his arms and bless them; through 
his infinite compassion which healed the sick and breathed 
forgiveness to the sinful; through the divine depth of his love 
which not even the cross could slay, he has made this earth as 
well as heaven to be thy dwelling place. Yea, verily, in him 
thou, who art from everlasting, hast walked with the children 
of men. Not in Moses who talked with thee face to face, and 
not in Elijah who was carried by thine own messengers to 
heaven did thy spirit rest as in him whom thine own chosen 
people could only doom to a cruel death. But for him there 
was no death. He rose; he made mortality immortal; he 
was called by thee to heaven and forever he dwells with thee. 
Forever will his life, his death, his conquest over death, make 
known to men thy everlasting might, thy everlasting love. 
Light! light! light! Oh, glorious, wondrous light! It has 
shined from heaven! It has flooded this footstool of Jehovah! 
Even from its dust and ashes we can now look up to God!” 

The fire in his spirit had spent itself. He ceased, and as he 
did so he found Thisoa standing at his side and gazing at him 
with the same look of devotion that had given him his mspira- 
tion. She was ready to speak now, and out of the depths of 
her own spirit she said joyously, 

“Yes, Zatthu, the light has come, full, cloudless, glorious 
light! You have opened my eyes to see as they have never 
seen before. How it can be I know not, but it is even as you 
say. This earth is no longer what it was; for He whose 
hands created it has in some way made his very presence seen 
and felt among us here. And if ever we are counted worthy 
to behold Him, I feel that we shall look upon that holy face 
I saw upon the mountain.” 


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Zatthu : a tale of ancient Galilee 
Princeton Theologi 


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